At war with Angels
by Chibi Haku
Summary: Meet Edward, your average low class teen in the year 3050. Except for one thing. Every night, before he sleeps, he feels like he has wings. [AU, cussing and violence. RoyXEd]
1. The Psycologic Edge

"Every night, before I fall asleep, it feels like I have wings." The psychologist, Paul Duncan looked up from where he was jotting down notes in a small, handheld computer. He was a balding man, in his mid-to-late forties, slightly overweight and red in the face, but with the perfect attitude for his profession. So, when the usually moody and secretive teen he was working with finally admitted something after a good seventeen sessions of trying to get the boy to speak up, Paul merely raised an eyebrow.

Leaning forward, his blue eyes shining with something akin to triumph, he commented, "Well, Edward, I'm sure that's not a very rare occurrence. I'm sure lots of people imagine what it would be like to have wings."

He was rewarded with a snort for his effort, as the golden haired, golden eyed, fifteen year old turned away, inspecting the fingers of his gloved right hand. The boy was wearing a strange assortment of clothing, and he appeared to have an affinity with red and black. He was in a black, light cotton top (It was long sleeved, but slightly too short, so a flash of pale skin could be seen at his waist), Black leather pants that clung to his hips, and his torso was covered with a red, fishnet top. Of course, the gloves were there as well, white, and very old fashioned, and they served well to accent the sliver flamel symbol hanging on a black leather strap about his neck. "You don't understand, as usual." Edward scoffed, his hand straying up to play with the tip of his long, golden hair, which was wrapped in a braid.

As he moved, a sparkle of light caught Paul's eyes, coming from the boy's left ear lobe, where a plain silver stud rested. There was no matching stud in the other ear. The hand that was playing with the end of the rope of hair quickly moved to cover it. "What are you looking at?" The boy barked, glaring at the man.

Paul held up his hands defensively. "Nothing!" Cold gold eyes still held him pinned, and they were filled with a deep mistrust that lingered, even after the boy released him from his scrutinising gaze. Briefly, Paul reflected that Edward would be quite beautiful and effeminate looking, if his mouth weren't permanently set in a deep scowl. "What don't I understand?" He questioned the teen.

Those cat-like eyes narrowed, a frown crinkling the boy's brow. "About my wings. I don't imagine what it's like to have wings, like in dreams or shit like that, moron, it feels like they're really there. Moving, rustling, you name it. I can see them, hear them, feel them damn it! I can even _SMELL_ the bastards there. It's like they're fucking REAL!"

Paul winced at the profanities, but watched the boy closely. The boy's eyes were cold and hard, but the boy's brows and other features danced as he spoke, portraying a range of emotions. Most were negative. It was almost hypnotic watching such expressive features. "MORON! Listen to me!" Paul jumped.

"Sorry Edward." He ducked his head in feigned apology, and mentally shook himself. What the hell kept coming over him as the moody teen spoke? It was, well, weird. The foul mouthed, bad tempered and cold patient in front of him could manipulate people around him so easily. Paul had watched him do so with his young friend... what was her name? Winry.

"So?" Edward snapped, glaring and most likely waiting for an explanation of his dreams. Another factor of the boy's personality Paul had come into contact with on a regular basis during these sessions was his incredible impatience.

"I merely think that this might be connected with something within your subconscious, Edward, maybe something from which you are trying to escape?" As Paul was speaking, he wrote quickly, noting the details of Edward's dreams, or illusions, which was probably a more accurate word. "Perhaps these wings might be a symbol of freed..."

"Don't patronise me!" Edward spat over Paul's explanation. "You know as well as I do that I'm too smart to buy that 'this-stems-from-something-buried-in-your-past' crap." The venomous look Paul received would have left a braver man shaking in his boots.

Of course, that braver man did not have Paul's five years of training and 16 of experience. Paul calmly met Edward's gaze "Humour me, Edward, what has happened in your past?"

Edward sighed, the friendliest emotion Paul had ever received from him. "Well, I never knew my real parents; I was adopted when I was six months old. I grew up with nick and Ana, my adopted parents, who for some reason have always made me call them by their first names. As I am adopted, I do not have a last name, but Nick and Ana have the last name Carlton. My best friend is Winry Rockbell who I've known since she and her grandmother moved into the apartment next door to mine at age two. I was three at the time. I have no known siblings, and my adopted parents were involved in a DIGIT experiment about mid last year and are now no more than the equivalent of giant rabbits due to the failure of said experiment." There was a moment's pause in which Paul realised that Edward would divulge no further information without coddling and the words the boy spoke were digested.

"DIGIT Experimentation, what is that?" Paul asked, sinfully curious. He had never heard of such a thing before.

Edward grunted. "Something the military invented. DNA introduction, generation and infusion technology. "He scowled more heavily than usual. "It involves introducing strands of animal DNA into human cells, infusing the animal and human DNA together and replicating the cells at a furious pace in order to cause the mutation of the whole body into something half-animal, half-human."

"But you said the experiment failed?"

"I did." Edward growled. "The technology leaves no room for error, too little DNA results in a cancerous tumour, too much and the animal instincts take over the human, rational brain."

Paul hid his shock as much as was humanly possible. "So your parents..."

"Adopted parents, moron. They didn't give birth to me. But yes, you are right. They received too much DNA in the process of infusion. Rabbit DNA. So, as a result, they are now little more than human-sized rabbits, with maybe a few human words here and there." Edward replied in a cold tone and with emotionless eyes.

Paul stared at the boy. Even more amazing than his total lack of emotion about the subject was his seemingly complete acceptance that the people who had cared for him since he was in diapers were no more than vegetables now, which needed his complete and utter devotion. There was no anger, no sadness, only complete and utter detachment from the entire issue as he spoke. And it was al delivered with a cold, shrewd and calculating air that left Paul tingling with slight fear. A soft 'ping' issued from under Paul's desk, and there was an audible 'click' as the locks upon the doors slid open. Edward stood.

"I believe that that is the end of this incredible waste of my time." He stated simply, turning on his heel and passing his hand over a receptor near the door. It swung outwards. "Oh, and 'Doctor' Duncan?" He paused, "Lay off the chocolates." He stepped out of the room, and the door swung into place behind him.

Paul merely stared, slack-jawed, at the oaken door. Edward was a mystery, and he wondered what on earth could be going through his mind at that moment.

-----------------

"DAMMIT I'M HUNGRY!" Edward cried as he stormed up the stainless steel passageway of Duncan and Associates Psychologic care centre. He scowled deeply and deliberately dragged his feet, trying to scuff the polished steel floors. It was a strange place, Duncan and associates, the hallways were cold and sterile, and totally technologically advanced in the way of movement receptors and scanners. However, the rooms themselves tried to be homely, for the ease of the patients. Wooden and warm, and in winter, the vast majority had a roaring fire in the corner. Absolute crap, really.

Edward had reached the end of the hallway, and gratefully he sighed, and reached out with his left hand to press a round, silver button, aware of the finger-print scanning taking place even through his glove. The door slid to the side, with a hiss of misplaced air, and Edward continued onwards, into another of the homely, 20th century, out-of-date rooms. This time, it was not another office, but the reception.

He proceeded across the wooden floorboards, more at home in a cabin than a highly profitable business to the front desk, to collect the certain treasured possessions that were not allowed within the wards. He paid no heed to the picture of innocent looking puppies above the female secretary's head as he snatched up his pocket knife and portable lighter. The blonde, dopey looking woman sent him a reprimanding glare which he met coolly. "Got a problem?" he delivered spinning his lighter through his fingers and flicking open the top, which caused it to emit a blue spark with a small 'click.' The secretary shook her head quickly, and went back to typing out reports and memos. "That's an out of date piece of crap, you know." He stated, gesturing at the hologram screen. He was ignored.

Shrugging at the cold shoulder, and really not caring at all, he turned away and sauntered the short distance to the clinic entrance where he waited briefly for the automated door to open enough to let him pass.

Almost instantly he was greeted by a female voice. "Hey Ed!" The shout was warm, bright and full of life, and for the first time since entering the clinic earlier that day, Edward cracked a true and honest smile.

Turning to greet the early teens girl who ran up to him, he returned the greeting with a quick nod of his head. The girl had long, golden hair that sparkled when the sun hit it, and was held back in a blue bandanna. The piece of cloth served the dual purpose of supplementing her sky-blue eyes which were wide and bright and happy. She grinned at Edward, running slightly to catch up to him, where he had started walking down the street. She wore clothes that allowed movement, baggy tracksuit pants, brand label trainers, and a loose fitting, black tank top. And, as she caught up to the boy, she enveloped him in a bone-breaking hug. It became apparent suddenly, to all watching, that the cold boy who appeared to loom was, in reality, quite short.

"Winry?" Edward asked, scowling from where his face was pressed into the girl's shoulder.

"Yes?" She replied, all too innocently, her grin turning mischievous on her warm, slightly round face.

"What have I told you about touching me?" There was an edge of malice to 'Ed's' tone.

Winry Rockbell let go, pulling back and pouting slightly. "Honestly Ed! You're so antisocial." She scolded gently, her hands on her hips in mock anger. "I mean, it's not like being touched will give you cooties or something."

"I had cooties once. It's not an experience I care to repeat." Edward replied, deadpan.

"Beside the point!"

Edward raised an eyebrow, brushing off his arms almost defensively, and shoving his hands into his pants pockets once the task was complete. "I just don't like being touched, alright, Win'?" He started down the street, uncaring of the car-like contraption that flew by overhead. Winry followed, sighing.

"Edward." She began slowly, her tone one of explaining to the very young. "We live in the year 3050. There are such things as air-buses which can get us home in two seconds flat. Why on Earth do you insist on walking?" He felt both his eyebrows rise as he turned to shoot her a dark look.

"Cars make me uncomfortable." He told her flatly.

"GODDAMMIT ED! Cars make you uncomfortable, crowds make you uncomfortable, water makes you uncomfortable, Atmos bugs make you uncomfortable, is there anything that DOESN'T make you uncomfortable?" She snapped, well and truly past the end of her tether.

"Mountains." He replied, his gaze turning skywards and looking through the haze of 'Atmos bugs', little robots that purified the atmosphere to the lone cloud in the sky. He felt a strange pang of longing.

"Oh, not bloody mountains again." Winry sighed and stopped, standing stock still. Edward turned to give her an expectant look. "Where on Earth do you expect to find mountains, Edward, they were all flattened for residential area. There's none left."

"Not on Earth." He said softly, and she had to strain to hear him. He was looking at the cloud again. "We've already fucked up Earth. On Mars."

"Fuck Mars." She snapped, sounding truly weary of what appeared an age-old argument between the two. "It's a trashy little tourist hole with no value whatsoever. It's not even that any more, not with the war between the angels and us. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Edward, it's a battleground." She began walking again, slightly slower and with her shoulders slumped.

"I know." His voice had lost all its tone once more. Above, horns and profanities blazed in the uncomfortable silence, as two of the flying transports nearly collided. Edward was suddenly very aware that he and Winry were the only ones walking the footpaths.

"Then why do you still want to go there?" She asked softly, sadly.

"You want to go."

"Maybe I do, Edward, but I'm going to go to fight in the war and defeat the angels. I have a purpose, Edward, a reason. You just want to see some stupid mountain!" She kicked a nearby bottle angrily. It bounced off a wall, and landed, a cheery, female voice coming from inside it.

"_Please Recycle"_ Edward grinned, but quickly covered his smile at Winry's murderous glare. He turned and wandered up a set of dark steps to a steel door covered in scuff marks, dirt and even some congealed blood.

"_Thumb print identification please._" A weary voice asked from a small panel to his left. He complied, stripping off his left glove and pressing his thumb (With slightly long nails) to the screen with a scowl. The door creaked open slowly. "_Welcome back, Edward._"

"What's wrong with wanting to see mountains?" Edward asked Winry, stepping into the dingy hallway which smelt slightly of urine. Winry followed.

Perhaps she sensed she was fighting a loosing battle, perhaps she was just sick of the argument, but in any case, the blonde haired girl sighed. "Nothing. Are you still coming to Grandma's 70th birthday Edward?"

"Depends on Nick and Ana." Edward replied, opening a door to his left, the same way he had opened the first.

She nodded. "Give them my love, would you?" She asked. "God knows they don't get yours."

"I'll pass it on." The words were cold, and Winry knew she'd overstepped her mark.

"See you tomorrow?" Her tone was hopeful.

"We'll see. Tell Auntie Pinnako I said 'hi.'" The door slid into place between Winry's sad eyes and Edward's unseeing back.

"I'm sure Grandma'd prefer it if you came over yourself once in awhile and said so, Ed." She spoke to the closed door, before turning and walking the few steps to her own home. "When are you going to realise that you can't live like this, Edward? When are you going to realise that even you aren't so strong as to not need a friend?"

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Inside Edward's apartment, the teen was seemingly trying to get from the dark hallway to his room on the other side, crossing across newspaper which rustled only slightly under his feet. So much so, that it seemed he almost cringed, when a small, slightly slurred and childish voice cried gleefully, "Edward's home!"

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_A/N: I must be the most fucked up, on-crack-without-being-on-crack Authoress in the known universe._

_However, I would like to be serious for a moment. In light of the recent events, that is, the tragedy of the Tsunami, I would like to extend my deepest and sincerest sympathies, sorrows and apologies to all who have been affected. As I personally have had nothing, and no one stolen from me by this event, I will not waste yours, or my time by pretending to know, or even be able to fathom the anguish all who have suffered on a personal level must feel._

_However, I can not express how much gratitude I feel in my incredible luck that whatever God (or Gods) that are out there have spared all who are close to me on more than one occasion. And also, for blessing me with such incredible people in my life. _

_My family is the most precious thing in the world for me. I imagine that this is the case for most. And this importance is shared by my friends and other loved ones so close as to be considered family. Looking upon my grandparents as I write this, I cannot express the depth of the love and trust within me and the immenseness and intensity of emotions that have been plaguing me since first hearing about the horrific events in Asia. I cannot imagine such pain as to loose anyone close to my heart. _

_If anything good at all can come out of the recent events, I hope that it is that we can hold the people we still have a little tighter, love them a little more and pray that those who have lost so much in this tragedy can find peace, and closure._

_To all the victims, either directly or indirectly, of this horrible event, my prayers go with you._

_For those as lucky as I was, count your blessings, and give all you can to those people not as fortunate as yourself._

_There is only one way for the world to keep turning, communal effort. Best wishes, Catherine (Haku) French, 2005._


	2. Rabbits and Photography

"Edward's home!" The soft-spoken cry made the long haired boy flinch. So close... He had been so close to getting into his bedroom without being noticed. He steeled his will and turned to be greeted by a pair of light pink eyes, staring out of the gloom. Sighing, Edward pulled out the tie in his hair, and raked his fingers trough the silky strands, effectively undoing the braid.

For the briefest of moments he contemplated pretending he hadn't seen the creature and continuing on, but he knew all that would happen, is that it would grow confused, and scared.

"Food! Edward! Hungry!" He sighed, passing his hand over a sensory device located in the wall to his left, and blinked as the hall was immediately flooded with a glaring light. The creature gave a sudden yelp, and pressed itself back against the faded green wall, just like a cornered animal.

"You're not hungry, Ana; you only think that you are." The creature blinked incomprehensively, dismissing the words. It was obviously female, one could tell from body shape alone, but nature would have never thought up the creature's design. She was a quadruped, unable to stand on elongated and misshapen hind legs alone, and balanced precariously on arms longer than they had a right to be. Her features were set into a flat face, her eerie and seemingly pupil less eyes protruding slightly, and set forward instead of to the side as in most animals of prey. Two small slits, surrounded by pink skin made her nose, and this twitched madly in a constant hurricane of breath, and surrounded by a multitude of whiskers. Her legs ended in powerful paws designed for leaping, but their function was rendered useless by the half-hand, half-paw of her front limbs. Useless stubby fingers scrabbled on the floor, as she tried to dig an escape route in the concrete ground and all that was left of her thumb was an ugly nail, in the place of a dew-claw. The monstrous appearance was finished by two elongated ears poking out of a white bird's nest of hair, and a white fuzz that covered her body which was too short to be called fur. She was about the size of a small child.

Edward sighed. Failures weren't pretty. The creature turned slowly, beginning to realise there was no danger, and glanced over the blonde haired boy. "Hungry." The comment was as thoughtful as the creatures' instincts (A strange combination of human and rabbit) would allow, almost as if the creature was aware of set boundaries of what Edward would allow it to do. She wiggled slightly closer, but remained well out of reach of Edward, standing and watching in the hallway.

The boy in question shook his head, knowing that the creature was trying to wheedle treats from him. He would not fall for the innocent pleadings of the rabbit, instead, he replied, "I'm not going to feed you every time you say that, Ana." However, inwardly he was impressed, that she had picked up that word association. It was a mark of how brilliant the woman had been, that even after DIGITization, she could still create those word associations, and form simple (if crude) sentences. The creatures' ears drooped.

Edward sighed, and ignored her, moving toward his bedroom quickly. Ana followed tentatively, her steps hobbling and lopsided on mismatched feet. Even as Edward entered his own room, he felt the motion and heat sensors detecting for his unique imprint. He sensed, more than heard, his personal message system whir into life, then speaking in sync with the tired voice, he commented, "Welcome Edward. You have... pause..." he did so, grinning slightly at how stupid he would have looked, "Zero new messages!" His grin grew, as the machine fell into silence. "There's a big fucking surprise."

"Edward shouldn't swear." Ana mumbled from the doorway. It was as far as she ever dared to go, her rabbit instincts keeping her there out of fear. Edward ignored her, choosing to instead flop onto his bed in a dejected manner. Lying on his back, he folded his arms under his head and brought one knee up into a bent position. Ana brought a hind leg forward to scratch behind one of her long ears.

He turned to look at her briefly and felt a twang of sadness in the pit of his stomach. He knew that whatever was left of Ana in the rabbit would be exceedingly frustrated at her inability to preform more than the simplest of tasks, and even then, not well. The Ana Edward knew would have grounded him and locked him out of the house systems for a week, rendering him unable to access any form of entertainment in the apartment's in-built computer. Strangely, he found himself missing the sense of having boundaries in place.

The more boundaries Edward had, the less responsibilities his life contained. He frowned.

Ignoring the rabbit, he stated into the air, "Computer, Message Winry Rockbell." A holographic screen appeared just below the ceiling, slanted so that he could look up at it without changing the position he was in. "Hey Win'!" he spoke to the screen, "Just a quick note to say I'll come over to Aunty Pinnakos' birthday party. I would come over to say it in person but..." He grinned to himself. "..You pissed me off pretty bad."

"Bad Edward!" Ana scolded. Again, she was ignored.

"See you there, Win. It's still on Sunday, right? From Ed." He grinned. "Computer, End message." There was a click, and the computer switched itself off. The boy sighed, moving one of his hands under his pillow to pull out a small frame. Though uncommon, the practise of framing the most important snapshots of ones life could still be found scattered throughout Earth and this was the only picture Edward had done so to.

The snapshot itself was nothing special, a three second moving loop slightly blurred and charged by the residual energies of the apartment's computer. However, to Edward none of this mattered. The only thing that was important was the subject matter of the image.

It was a simple picture of himself, Nick, Ana and the whole Rockbell family at his fifth birthday party. He smiled as he traced over Nick's face with a gloved finger. The man was slightly drunk, that much was obvious from his happy grin and bemused eyes. A small smile made its way onto Ed's face as he stared at the photo, at how beautiful Ana had been, with sun-kissed blonde hair, cut to her neck, for that was as long as the research company she had worked for allowed it. She had startling, bottle green eyes, and beautifully tanned skin, and would not have looked out of place in a beauty magazine. She was laughing slightly at her husband, playfully tapping his shoulder, and her eyes sparkled with amusement. Aside from being a bit drunk, Nick himself looked splendid. His black hair was cropped short, and a small goatee graced his chin. Somehow though, the dark colouring of his hair did not make his skin pale in comparison, and much like his wife, his tan glowed bronze. He grinned out of the frame, the light catching off his purple contact lenses. Edward couldn't remember what colour Nicks' eyes were originally, he had only seen him once or twice without the lenses, and then he had square reading glasses on. To Edward, The man had purple eyes, end of story.

He glanced at Aunty Pinnako, strict even in the photo, smiling sternly. Her greying hair was pulled back into its usual tight bun, her spectacles were on, and her pipe was permanently fixed in her hand. "Same old hag." He muttered to sadly to himself. Standing slightly behind and in the shadows, were Winrys mother and father. The photo did Mr. and Mrs. Rockbell no justice, and Edward (Who had hardly seen them) found himself struggling to remember their features. Though, he knew that they had taken time off from their medical positions in the war effort to be there that day.

And finally, Edward turned his attention to the focus of the picture, himself and Winry, looking much younger and chubbier. He had his hair cut short, and hers was held back by a simple headband. They were both beaming and looking over his birthday present, an action figure from his favourite cartoon. His eyes flicked up to where the toy now sat upon his shelf, broken, but with too much sentimental value to merit it being thrown out.

"What Edward doing?" Ana enquired from the doorway, not appreciating being ignored.

He looked at her sadly, feeling tears prickle at the corner of his eyes, at the difference between what she was, and what she had become. "Nothing important, Ana." He replied, though he knew she couldn't understand him. "Just an old photograph."

Her face curved into a mimicry of the sad smile on his. "Why Edward leaking?" She asked, a strange amount of humanity leaking through her mutated exterior.

Scrubbing his eyes with the back of a gloved hand, Edward forced a grin. "No reason." His voice was dangerously choked, and he attempted to calm it before continuing. "Ana, why don't you go get Nick. It must be almost dinnertime."

The rabbit brightened at this, and looked at him from her position in the doorway, recognising the word 'dinner.' Without a backward glance, she bolted from the room, muttering something that sounded like, "foodfoodfoodfoodfood!"

Edward gave a weak laugh at her antics, taking one last glance at the picture in his hands. A sigh escaped him, despite his best efforts to hold it back.

"What was it you used to say, Nick?" He spoke to the air, "That's right. The past is gone, and cannot be changed." He ran his fingers over the frame. "The future is uncontrollable and continually changing, but the present, it can be controlled. Do what you can with it, to change your life." He sighed, placing the picture back under his pillow and sat up. An odd rustling, like feathers sliding over one another filled the room. Edward laughed shakily. "I don't think that you would have guessed my present includes going insane and looking after two rabbits, now would you?" He closed the door behind him as he exited.

* * *

_A/n: Sorry to everyone who was expecting cutesy bunnies instead of the deformed half-creatures I gave you. Hopefully people aren't too disappointed._

_Ana is loosely based on the Nina-chimera. Nicks' design hasn't been finalised yet, but he will be very similar to Ana. No cutesy humans with bunny ears and fluffy tails here!_

_Oh, and before I forget, I had two very lovely betas who looked this one over for me, **Bard** **Linn** and one of my friends from school, **Megan**! Hopefully, the three of us managed to pick up all my mistakes. -heh-_

_Review and feed a hungry authoress?_


	3. The Hidden cost

"THREE! TWO! ONE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY AUNTIE PINNAKO!" The cry went up around the gardens, the one place in the city where trees still grew. It had originated from one corner of the patch of land, situated around a large buffet table where crowds of people milled about, talking and laughing and having a good time. The scene was straight out of a storybook with luminescent bubbles bathing the whole of the grassy area in a soft salmon glow. It was hard to believe that outside the small patch of land, life still revolved as usual with muggings and drugs commonplace in the downtown city hubs.

Glasses chinked in toast towards a short, fierce woman whose hair was pulled back tight enough so that it just barely avoided cutting off circulation to her brain. (Or, at least that was the excuse Winry used when said woman was being more eccentric than usual.) She was sucking bemusedly on the end of an unlit pipe, filled to the brim with tobacco. It had been a birthday present, and (to no one's surprise) the aging woman had wasted no time in breaking it in.

In fact, most people were amazed that she'd actually stopped to read the inscription first.

Converged in small groups of four to six, people began to break away from the food laden table (Which was groaning in protest) and young children ran underfoot causing a hindrance and getting in the way with the ease of long practise. It was the perfect scene of enjoyment except for down near the foot of the table where Edward sat, staring glumly into his glass of flavoured water with a thoughtful frown.

"Hey." Winry greeted, sliding herself into the seat at right angles with the boy. He looked up and smiled briefly, before casting his gaze downwards again. "What's wrong?"

His focus remained solely in the depths of the clear liquid for a moment before he glanced up again. The same thoughtful frown was still in place as he commented, "You look nice tonight Win'." In an offhand kind of way. He gave a smile designed to be cheerful, but failing to meet the grade. It wasn't a lie, for Winry did look nice with her hair pulled back into a long braid that hung almost to her hips over a light green, loose fitting dress.

She rapped him lightly on the forehead with her knuckles. "Flattery will get you everywhere, mister, except out of the question." She grinned at him, but her expression faltered as he strained to return the smile. "Seriously though, Edward, what's wrong?"

"Have you seen Nina tonight? She looks a lot better." He replied, and to an outsider it would have appeared that he was attempting to change the track of conversation once again. But Winry knew better. She stole a sip of his drink, ("Hey!") and grinned before replying.

"She does. I can't believe it really. She looked so pale and sickly before the operation."

Edward nodded. "I guess it's always good when DIGITizing works." He said it with a smile. Winry wasn't fooled.

"Edward, stop. You saved that little girl's life. Don't resent her for succeeding where Ana and Nick failed." She snapped at him, all too aware of how often she was scolding him recently. "If you weren't there when the Beast attacked her, she wouldn't be alive today." Winry glared, for she remembered all too well the mutated travesty that broke out of the research labs to terrorise the city's slums. It had been two stories tall and covered in horns and venomous fangs. Edward had jumped out in front of it to save a little girl it had chosen for its' next target. He'd had his arm wrenched from its' socket, and the little girl had been battered and stabbed by a toxic barb.

Edward blinked at her. "Yeah, but I failed then, too, didn't I? She nearly died anyway, and all I got to show for it was this." He pulled back the right sleeve of his jacket, revealing a metal plate attached to a prosthetic arm. Winry glared. She'd made that arm for Ed.

"You shouldn't hold yourself responsible for everything, Edward, you couldn't save Ana and Nick, because you had no clue what was happening. You COULD save Nina and you did, and gained a friend in doing so." She reasoned, but Edward just huffed and turned away.

She sighed, placing a hand on his metallic limb. "Edward, it's not too much to ask to have someone else to carry some of the load you know."

"What load?" He growled, his temper rising quickly. "I'm fine by myself." He stood up quickly, and moved away from the table before she had a chance to talk to him further. And only when he thought she had turned away did he let his shoulders slump in defeat.

She sighed, pouring herself her own drink. "That load, Edward, that load."

"Get some beer into him Winry!" Someone called, and she forced a smile as she went to visit the other guests.

* * *

Edward had moved away to sit under one of the sparse trees in the clearing. He smiled softly at a blue bubble floating his way and batted at it when it got a little too close. Taking a deep breath, he expelled it in a long sigh as he fought to get his emotions back under control. Usually, he was able to brush off anything that Winry said to him quickly, and go back to being cheerful with her, but this time the girl had said so many things in such quick succession, that he didn't even think he was capable of keeping up with them. "Dammit." He growled out, slamming his fist into the damp soil next to him. "Why can't she just butt out of my life?" 

He knew he didn't mean it though, he had too close a connection with the girl not to, but sometimes it seemed like they were completely alien. Too different. It was almost as if they came from different worlds.

Or maybe he was just being stupid.

He pulled his jacket slightly tighter around him to prevent the creeping night chill from attacking his metallic arm. It was pleasantly warm at the moment, and he wanted it to retain that heat as long as possible. He was grateful to the girl, he supposed, for without her, he never would have maintained the use of his right arm and been forever marred. She had even given him the arm at half price because he was a family friend.

"Edward Little Brother?" A shy voice spoke from a few yards away. "Why are you over here Edward Little Brother and not with the party?" Out of the shadows, a girl of about six approached. She carried marks of weariness (ghostly pale skin, and deep bags under her eyes) and looked almost too sickly to be out and about. One hand was clutched around a shaggy plush dog, while the other was held limply at her side. She approached him slowly.

"Hi Nina." Edward greeted, reaching out a hand, which she took, coming to settle cuddled up against him. Nina was the only person Edward really allowed to touch him. Not even Winry received the privilege anymore. "How are you tonight?"

"Nina's tired, Edward Little Brother." She replied quietly. "Nina wants to go home and sleep."

He smiled sadly down at her. Her mental development had been slowed due to the animal part of her instincts, but she was still growing unlike his parents. He scratched gently between two normal ears nestled into thick brown hair. If he didn't know any better he would say that she was completely human. "Then you should tell your father, Nina, I'm sure that he'll take you home."

"Papa says it's not safe to wander home alone, Edward Little brother." She quoted, blinking up at him, "So Nina must wait until Papa and Papa's friends are ready to go home."

She smiled at him. "But Edward Little Brother is sad. Why?"

Edward considered the question for a moment, the intellectual level of the one syllable surprising him. "Have you ever felt like you just wanted to fly away from somewhere, but you can't?" He asked her, looking up at the sky as he spoke. She made a noise of confusion, and snuggled deeper into him. He laughed softly. "Never mind Nina." He wrapped an arm about her shoulders cautiously.

She stared at him for a moment, before squirming out of his impromptu embrace. "Edward Little Brother should be having fun at the party! Edward Little brother shouldn't be sad."

He blinked at her, caught off guard by her sudden attitude switch. "What?"

"It's a _party_." She stressed, looking down at him from where she had stood up. "Edward Little Brother should not be sad!" She waggled a finger for emphasis before trotting back over to the throng of people.

Edward watched her go, still slightly shocked. She was right, he realised. Feeling sorry for himself could wait. He could have fun _now_.

* * *

"Glad to see the boy's finally going to enjoy himself." Pinnako grinned fiercely as she watched Edward make his way out from under the tree to the drinks table. "You owe me 5 bucks mister." She shoved the man next to her who groaned, fisting in his pocket for the currency. 

"How has the boy been anyway?" Her black haired companion replied, handing over the bill with slight reluctance. "I haven't seen him since..." He coughed quickly, with a pointed look at Pinnako.

The aging woman took a sip of her drink before replying. "A bit too well maybe." The boy in question laughed and shoved an offered glass of wine away, settling for more of the flavoured water he enjoyed. No amount of persuasion could get him to change his mind and the person who had offered walked away, muttering and shaking their head in confusion. "According to my busy body of a granddaughter, he's a lot more cynical and critical these days but otherwise he's fine. The same Edward down to the temper tantrums."

"What?" The man asked, slightly stunned, "No depression at all?"

Pinnako shook her head. "I didn't believe it when I heard it first either. But like I said. Perhaps he is a bit too cheerful unless he forgets that there are others around." She watched her 'busybody of a granddaughter' drag a wildly protesting Edward towards the dance floor. They were both laughing, though to the trained ear Edward's laugh sounded a bit false.

"He broke down, though you wouldn't know it just by looking at him. Around about the July after that horrid experiment. It was Winry who found him." She grinned at the fierce protectiveness of her granddaughter. "She was worried because 'I hadn't received a reply from Edward' in the conversation they were having." She smiled as she quoted Winry, but her tone quickly turned dark. "She found him in the floor curled up into a tight as anything ball, clutching his head. She still isn't sure as to whether he was screaming or sobbing. He lashed out at her every time she came close."

The man smirked. "Was it really that serious?" He spoke in the tone of the disbelieving

"She called for me." Pinnako replied. "I came at once, but by the time I had reached his apartment, he was sitting on the end of his bed muttering things about 'wings' and a man called 'Mustang.'"

Winry laughed as Edward spun her twice and tried to escape. She pulled him back, deliberately holding him close just to annoy.

"Strangest thing I've ever seen. He was muttering things about his parents, and how Mustang better not leave him again. He didn't seem to realise that we were in the room. Of course we sent him to therapy the very next week. Fat lot of good it did." She growled around the pipe she was now lighting.

The boy had managed to escape from Winry and was now giving a piggyback ride to a much livelier Nina Tucker. Pinnako blew an elegant smoke ring out over the heads of the crowd, somehow managing it for all her short stature. "Edward claims not to remember a thing about the incident. He also doubts that he needs any help at all. But you know what they say. You can lend a politician your money, but you can't make them think."

* * *

It was the early hours of the morning by the time Edward returned to his small apartment. Granted, he had had a good night, but the tiring nature of it all was beginning to catch up with him, and he no longer could fight the noise of fluttering just about his head. 

He had just decided to crash upon his bed, when the computer whirred into life. Cocking a brow at the strange activity, he waited it out, to be greeted with,

"_One new message._"

"What does Winry want this time?" He muttered to himself, pressing the retrieval button located upon his night stand.

A screen flashed into life above his head, and a strangely familiar man with black hair and deep, dark blue eyes whirred into focus. Edward had never seen him before in his life, but as the man began talking, Edward was struck with a wave of Deja-vu so thick and fast that he had to sit down.

"Hello Edward." The message spoke in rich, sultry tones, "My name is Roy Mustang. I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but, you see, we've already met..."

* * *

_

* * *

A/n: Oh gods. I'm glad that's done. This chapter was hell to write, half the time Winry couldn't say the things that I wanted her to say, because they were either OOC or made her sound like a ditz. And I like Win, so I can't have that._

_The Nina scene was re-written 4 times before I was happy with it, as was Pinnako's explanation. I'm still not _really_ happy with either, but hey, after 2 months, I figured you'd want an update. _

_Not only that, but battling Ross River Virus, Schoolwork, and all those other nasty little buggers called commitments really left me depleted every time I had some free time to write. So please don't hurt me, I'm really sorry and all the rest of it._

_Next chapter is going to be fun. (Note the heavy sarcasm.) But you'll see why when that's out. But I like the couple after that, so expect more lively updates soon. _

_And no, my other fics are not dead. They are just going under heavy rewriting. _

_Please leave a review for an author who really doesn't deserve it?_


	4. He's a WHAT?

"I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but, you see, we've already met."

Edward stared up at the holographic face in awe. The man (about 25-30 years old, Edward guessed) had skin almost too smooth and too pale to be real. His eyes were cold and of such a dark blue they appeared black with only a few flecks of slate in their depths. He looked elegant, but definitely masculine, and there was something about him akin to an eagle in his expressionless features and knowledgeable eyes. His ebony hair framed his face, and if possible made his skin seem paler and even less touched by time.

The hologram smirked. "I don't have much time, so I shall get straight to the point." Edward bristled at the computerized tone of the man, which was probably nearly identical to the one he had used. The words 'smug bastard' floated across Edward's consciousness, unbidden but not unwanted. "I am well aware of your current living standards, Edward, and I am willing to strike a bargain with you."

"No." Edward snapped instantly, alarm bells going off in the back of his head. He was well aware that he was listening to a pre-recorded message, and he also didn't care. He didn't _need_ any more people invading his life, thank you very much. He felt his eyes narrow in anger. He could look after himself.

"Undoubtedly, you have instantly refused, but haven't turned off this message. Thus, I do implore you that this would be in your best interest." Edward scowled again, but merely folded his arms over his chest and listened. It would do him no good to loose his temper at a hologram. "I am very interested in you, Edward, in particular your visions of wings. Meet me at the café on the corner of Main Street and Victoria Road Tomorrow morning at sunrise. I shall explain further then." The message winked out.

"Wait!" Edward snapped, his arms unfolding slightly in startlement as the holographic face faded with a small 'beep' "Bastard!" he yelled angrily and kicked the end of his bed in a display of fierceness.

With a howled curse, he sat down to rub his now painful foot. "Damn him!" He growled out. That smug bastard probably already knew that he was going to go.

* * *

Dawn came far too early for Edward's tastes, so instead of rousing fully, he attempted to deny the inevitable by growling and burying further into his blankets. This attempt to block out the predawn light was foiled however, by a conspiring pigeon that seemed to decide that it was a good time for him to wake to cooing. Loud cooing. He growled again but deciding discretion was the better part of valour drove him out from underneath the covers. As a final sign of rebelliousness, he took as long as possible to do so.

"Sun up!" He hissed, glancing up at the clock in the corner, and discovering that yes, Six AM did actually exist. "Who meets someone at sun up?" He shrugged out of his pyjama top and started fishing through his laundry pile for a pair of reasonably clean pants.

With a slight yell of triumph, he extracted a pair of black denim jeans from the pile he was shifting through. With his right hand, he reached down and picked up a black button-up shirt from the floor while his left fingered the silver flamel about his neck, the one he'd had ever since he could remember. He sniffed the shirt and threw it to the ground, wrinkling his nose.

"Bastard. Bastard." He chanted to make himself feel better. It worked somewhat. Finally he found a shirt that didn't smell like a dog had rolled on it and shrugged it on. Still sleep weary, barefoot, but at least dressed, he decided that Mustang could go fuck himself if he didn't want Edward to have his hair out. It was far too early in the morning to even contemplate _thinking_ about the mechanics behind putting his hair in.

Edward noted with some interest, that something appeared to be scratching at his door. He snickered quietly to himself. "Nick. Stop that please." The noise paused for a moment if the thing on the other side of the door was listening, then redoubled. Edward rolled his eyes. _Honestly._ He thought with fond exasperation.

It was no secret that Edward found it easier to cope with the changes to Nick than to Ana. It was somewhat to do with the nature of the changes that the two had gone through that while Ana looked like a human that had been crossed badly with a rabbit, Nick resembled something more black rabbit than human and Edward found it easier to cope with the black bunny than his white companion. The rabbit that was currently scratching upon his door was covered in proper fur, and all limbs but one had fully mutated into paws and hind legs. His facial features had elongated, and his eyes peered from the sides of his head instead of the front. Long teeth peeked over the rim of his human lips, and gashes ran along them where he'd accidentally bitten himself by accident. Human ears poked out of the side of his skull though their hearing capabilities appeared more acute than an average human. Neither experiment was remotely attractive to look at, but at least Nick looked less human and it was harder for Edward to relate the creature he had become with the man he once was.

Not opening the door to the rabbit immediately, Edward first searched through the mess of clothing on his floor for his boots which he'd discarded late the previous evening. A pair of socks (Still clean!) he found in the corner under a pile of manuscripts on the behaviour of rabbits and he fought bile as he turned away to pick up his boots from where they rested by his bookshelf. Whoever thought he needed to study his parents aught to be shot. Repeatedly.

Finally, he turned to open the door to a delighted squeak. Something black and fuzzy leapt up into his chest and bowled him over before settling over his sternum in a tight ball. Considering that the something was the size of a large dog, Edward found himself struggling to breathe (As usual) under the weight. "Get _of_ Nick!" He gasped, shoving at the ball of fluff dejectedly. The creature pinned him with a sleepy brown eye before turning away with an indignant huff.

While unable to speak, Nick had certainly kept his boisterous personality. Edward groaned. "Please get off?" He questioned, and still the rabbit refused to move. "Nick!" He whined, strongly reminded of when he was a child, trying to wheedle something out of his carer, "If you don't get off me I'm going to be late. Please move?" the rabbit consented and shifted with a distinctly hurt look directed Edward's way. The teen sighed and gave an obligatory scratch to the top of the creature's head.

Being able to get his own way in any situation was only one of Nick's newfound talents. Another was his uncanny ability to tell when Edward was awake and about no matter what time of day it was. Not at all caring about Ed's privacy, he would demand to be let in and given attention come rain, snow or random objects thrown at him by a disgruntled teen.

Edward stood and moved to the apartment's small kitchen after pulling on his boots. Only briefly did he stop in the room, just long enough to put down fresh food and water for the two other inhabitants of the computerised home. He squatted down to look Nick straight in one of his round eyes, giving a half smile as he did so. "What do you say, mate?" He asked the creature, petting his soft fur as he did so. Small crooning noises came from somewhere in the rabbit's chest. "Don't you reckon if this Mustang person is so eager to meet me, he can buy me breakfast?"

Nick blinked.

Edward took it as an agreement.

* * *

By the time Edward actually reached the small café (He'd been held up again when Nick wouldn't let him out the door without saying goodbye to Ana) it was well past sunrise and he couldn't bring himself to care. He scoured the small tables out the front of the broken-down building with a critical eye, searching for the black mop of hair from the message. The thought that the man may have already left had no right to feel uncomfortable; Edward noted when he failed to see him at any of the tables. In fact, it should have been a relief that the man wasn't there. It wasn't like he was interested in what the man had to...

"Edward." He jumped about a foot into the air and spun angrily. "You're late." Roy Mustang informed him with a smirk.

Shorter than Edward had imagined, but still a good head taller than him, the man had a decidedly wicked smirk that lingered in his eyes even when the expression had fled his face. The Proud stance that Mustang took and the way he looked at everyone through his eyelashes created an air of superiority that did not need a command for its wishes to be obeyed. He _reeked_ of sophistication and poise, even with his hands shoved into his pockets in a would-be casual pose. Edward's growl was so low it was barely audible.

"You expect me to be up before the crack of dawn?"

Mustang appeared not to notice the tone of the snapped reply. In any case, he didn't acknowledge it. His eyes shamefully raked up and down Edward's frame, and Edward fought the urge to squirm. Finally, the man announced flatly, "You're shorter than I expected." And then after further consideration, "And you really look feminine with your hair down like that."

Edward scowled, feeling bottled anger rising beneath his collar. Dammit, it was too early to have to put up with this! "Who are you calling a little princess who's smaller than the pea under her mattress?" He hissed bitterly, hands rising up into a defensive position.

The smirk present on Mustang's face wasn't wiped away by the outburst. If anything, it grew. "I said nothing of the sort." He replied calmly. "Now, Princess, if you'll head this way we have matters to discuss. The other member of our party is very eager to meet you." Edward was too caught off guard to register just exactly _what_ Mustang had called him which was probably a good thing. If he had of heard, heads would have rolled, and not only metaphorically.

"If I'd have known that this was going to be a party," Edward muttered, "I would have brought beer."

"Are you sulking, Princess?" Mustang replied in a mock disbelieving tone. "Besides, you know as well as I do, that you wouldn't because you can't drink. Your alcohol tolerance level is what, one glass of wine?"

"One and a half." Edward replied in the same muttered tone. At least Mustang had the good grace to pretend not to be amused by the admittance. Inwardly, Edward scowled. How did this man know everything about his fiercely private life? Following behind Mustang to a table in the corner of the outside area he scowled at the back of the man's head. Just who was this person? What had Ed gotten himself into _this _time? The man turned and shot him a quizzical look. Edward smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way.

Mustang stopped threading through the tables when he came to one with one space already filled. Pulling out a chair, he gestured for Edward to sit down. "Bastard!" Edward spat under his breath, taking the chair with as much dignity as he could muster as the man chuckled. Edward proceeded to ignore him as best he could and focused instead on the person already seated. At least _they_ looked somewhat likeable.

The other was a strangely feminine boy, and was not what Edward would have expected from meeting the dark man earlier. The boy looked younger than him and Ed would have guessed his age to be 14 at the most, even though Ed noticed that the other was somewhat taller than Ed himself. He smiled out from underneath a blonde fringe and his face looked like it was used to laughing. Dusty grey eyes appeared nervously from behind his fringe and Edward fought a gasp. _He looks like me!_ He thought, amazed. The real difference was that the boy was thicker set, with a chubbier face. Otherwise they could have passed for brothers. "Hi." The other greeted almost shyly. Edward nodded.

"Princess, this is Alphonse Elric." Mustang supplied and Edward bit back a growl at what the man seemed to have deemed his nickname.

"Al." Alphonse corrected quickly, perhaps sensing budding tension. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Edward." He had a feminine, overly polite tone to his voice but Edward grinned.

"Ed." He in turn corrected, bringing up a hand for the other to shake. Al readily took it and they both grinned. "Likewise. You seem a lot more sane then _him._" Edward pointed out with a gleam in his eye. Al rolled his eyes lightly at the undisguised snipe at the man with them.

Mustang sighed. "To business?" He suggested and Al jumped straight to attention. Edward growled at the blatant hierarchy.

Mustang's smirk returned to grace them. Edward guessed it was the top of the list of 'Mustang's favourite facial expressions.' "Well, Princess,"

"Call me that again and I will hurt you." Edward interrupted immediately. "I don't give a shit that you're a stranger."

Mustang coughed into his hand. Edward had the distinct impression he was covering a laugh. "Ahem. As I mentioned in that message I sent you, we have a bargain to discuss." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Perhaps over breakfast?"

"No." Edward snapped instantly, forgetting the plan of making Mustang buy him a meal and remembering his anxiousness at once. His stomach growled and he pretended like it didn't happen, ignoring the snickers of Al, and Mustang's superior smirk (Which was probably worse).

"Are you so sure about that Edward?" the man retorted in a smug tone and Edward felt a nerve above his eye twitch.

"Yes." He replied, perhaps a little too quickly.

Mustang looked like he was about to come back with something crushing, but Edward was saved at the last minute by Alphonse's voice. "Sir, please don't be difficult." He prompted. Mustang shrugged.

"If you insist."

"So." Edward began, rocking back dangerously on the spindly chair. "Why did you call me out here anyway? I mean, you don't go to all the effort you did with no reason."

A flash of discomfort passed across Mustang's face. Clearly he had wanted to launch into back story and stall as long as possible. It was Edward's turn to smirk. "So?" He prompted when the man didn't speak. He decided swiftly to press the opening; because he had a feeling he wouldn't get another chance with this man.

"Well, I guess the story starts with..." Al began, but Edward cut him off.

"Look, I'm a busy person. And I'm toying with the idea of just getting up and leaving now, because I have some fulltime charges to look after back at my apartment. I don't give a damn about some story. Just tell me what you came to tell me straight, and I'll judge whether or not I want to do whatever it is you want me to do or not." He replied impatiently.

"Alphonse is right though." Mustang replied, back to his usual cool attitude. "The story does need to be told."

"No." Was shot back instantly.

The man sighed. "Fine."

"You," He supplied, "Are an angel."

The chair gave way and Edward toppled backwards, laughing. Wiping a tear away from his eye, he shot an apologetic glance at a horrified waitress and set the chair back up. He was still chucking slightly. "Okay. That's the best joke I've heard all year. And I know WINRY!" He grinned. "Why'd you really call me out here?"

Neither replied and both were looking gravely serious. Edward felt a brow climb on its own accord. "Okay." He said, distinctly uncomfortable. "I'm leaving now." He backed away slowly. Mustang looked pointedly at Alphonse and the boy nodded.

In the space of a blink, a set of feathery wings appeared behind both of the men at the table. Edward rubbed his eyes but no, they didn't disappear. Alphonse's wings were white, short and underdeveloped, stretching for only a foot and a half on either side of the boy and covered in something more down than feather. Mustang on the other hand...

Black, regal and glossy, the wings would have stretched a good ten feet if they were fully open, instead they were neatly folded at his sides, swinging forwards under the table and stretching back nearly to the next table over. Edward noted with some surprise (He found it curious that he wasn't really shocked at the wings) that human perception was wrong, and the wings of angels didn't come out of their shoulders. Instead they were nestled snugly between shoulder and hip, slightly more back than forward and looked fully capable of flight. Edward calmly sat down and let his head fall to the table with a bang. "Right. I've gone insane." He spoke to the sugar container, not trusting himself to look up.

It was only when Mustang laughed, a rich throaty sound that could only be true, did he finally face them. And the wings. Which were still there. Damn them. "You're not insane." Mustang smirked reassuringly. (Was that possible?) "Alphonse and I are angels too. Though we do prefer Avians."

_Great. I'm sitting at a table with the Earth's archenemy. Well DONE Edward._ He thought, still not properly convinced that he wasn't going mental. How the Hell did he MISS the two pairs of wings in the first place? "I'm loosing my mind and you know it. Soon you'll be telling me that I'm some long lost Avian prince, instead of crazy old Edward, human, low class and way too overworked."

Mustang and Al fell suspiciously quiet.

Edward blinked twice. Realised something. Stared. "You're kidding."

Mustang's expression assured him, that no, he wasn't.

"You HAVE to be kidding!" Edward insisted. "Winry put you up to this! She had to! This is just too unreal." When he got no reply, he let his mutterings come to a stop. He thought for a moment about the possibilities, and funnily, his first thought was not _This is some elaborate sham._ But _What will I do with Nick and Ana?_ "But... For that to be true," He trailed off, a strangely Winry-esque voice in the back of his mind chanting to run very fast and very far.

And out of the blue, another part of his brain that sounded like Aunty Pinnako noted that no one else in the café noticed the wings. Which ruled out the possibility that this was some kind of joke.

Mustang spoke. "As abrupt and unexpected as your foreshadowing is, Princess, it is entirely accurate."

It took Edward a moment to find what was left of his voice. "But... but... that's so... so..." He racked his brain for the right word.

"Cliché?" Alphonse supplied helpfully.

Edward nodded, his voice deserting him again.

Mustang laughed. "Be that as it may, it's quite true."

Edward gave a sigh of relief at the opening the man gave him. "Prove it." He hissed, his sceptical nature finally finding root. "_If_ I'm an angel, _if_," he enforced, "Meet me on the viewing balcony of my apartment block. You know where it is." He said. Mustang nodded in unnecessary confirmation. "The viewing balcony is the second floor from the top. I'll be there tonight at five with two others. You can explain why I don't have wings then. When you fly up to meet me." He smirked.

Mustang nodded again, this time thoughtfully. "Agreed. But, only if you will come with us after we meet." Alphonse sighed, rolling his eyes.

"You two are as bad as each other." He commented dryly. They both offered him bland smiles.

Edward stood. "Tonight then." He said to confirm it, and moved away slowly. He was threading through the tables and about halfway out to the street when a shout made him turn back.

He was promptly hit in the head with a chocolate filled pastry. He fumbled to catch it, and then turned his glare on a smirking Mustang. "You looked hungry." The man supplied obliquely at the questioning look.

Ed toyed with the idea of throwing it at _Mustang's_ head to see how the man liked it, but there was something almost hopeful in that gaze that made Edward realise that it was a peace offering, not an insult. He muttered a begrudging "Thanks" And turned.

He nibbled on the pastry the whole way home.

* * *

.

* * *

_A/n: There! Look! I actually got a chapter out in less than a month!_

_It's a miracle!_

_Damn is this fic dragging its feet though. My original plan was to have a whole other scene in here as well, and the Nick scene wasn't meant to happen. I was just exasperated at my dog this morning who does the same things that Nick does, and decided to include it. And, it worked! And that just seemed such a cute place to leave it; I didn't want to ruin it by adding another scene._

_Therefore, next chapter we have a pick up in pace. Edward learns a lot more about the angels, and we meet some other characters who we all know and love! -Is looking forward to writing the next few scenes-_

_Not long now before the first in-fic battle between the Avians and the Earthlings! (Phew! I can call them Avians now too! I've been calling them Angels for months and getting furious at myself.)_

_Well anyways, this should sustain you lot until the next update which will probably take a significantly long time because I don't have people hanging over me going "YOU EVIL CLIFFHANGERPERSON!" I'm just weak willed that way. I also will have schoolwork hanging over me going: "YOU EVIL LAZYPERSON!"_

_Anyway, leave a review? Please? Chocolate filled pastries to the head for all who do!_


	5. A Real Fairytale Aside

_And entrusted unto them was the power and magick of an eternal bond. A bond of such strength and of such a timeless quality that no force could wrench it, no situation test their almighty, undying and most blessed of loves. Thou cannot perceive the depth and scope of affection bestowed upon those most privileged of Avians to receive the..._

Fourteen year old Ronald (Roy -and those who didn't call him that met painful fates) of the noble house of Mustang threw the book to the side of his room with a fierce scowl. The story that the dusty volume contained was one of star-crossed lovers, and was a fairytale that had been handed down through the ages since God-Knows-When. It was basically the stuff that most fairytales were made of, two Avians meeting, one a princess, the other a poor beggar and ("OH NO!" Roy whispered and grinned to himself) they fall in love. Princess gets kidnapped, Beggar rescues, then the happy ever after. The usual drabble.

Unfortunately it was also the fairytale that Fourteen year old Roy from the house of Mustang had to present an oral report on at school the very next day.

And of course,(It was the way the world worked after all) he hadn't started yet.

He growled to himself, contemplating whether or not he could use the excuse that he had accidentally set the book on fire when he was asleep. Then, he remembered that one, he needed his gloves on for that little act, and two, he had control of his power down to a degree of ferocity that none could match. It was why he was called the prodigy of the house of Mustang, he wasn't just good - he was the best.

The house of Mustang, Roy knew, was well renowned for its control of two elements of nature instead of just the one of most of the other houses. Most of the upper Avian classes could control an element, and use it to their will. It was what set them apart from others. For example, the Royal family could bend the mind and create illusions, non reality. Mustangs, on the other hand, could wield fire with a simple snap and specially designed gloves, and to a degree they had the power of telepathy. This meant, to a small extent, that Roy could read minds. It came in handy when he was stuck in a tight spot in any of his school exams. (Cheat? Nah. He preferred caling it "pressing an unfair advantage") But, as Roy was currently in the process of reminding himself, this did nothing to help him get the report done. He sighed, retrieved the book from the far side of the room, dusted it off slightly and began to write on a small, hovering pad encrypted with strange markings.

"_The concept of an Avian 'Only' is a piece of shit._" He wrote, before scowling, realising that his own opinion would not get him good grades and deleting the phrase. He pursed his lips, thinking. He began again, slowly, as if testing the words out before writing them down. "_What is the compelling force that drives one to believe in the truth of the fairy tale, _The Beggarman_? Is it the off chance that one might find such a fulfilling and complete bond in their lives as the one that the princess and the beggar found? Or is it the mystery that compels a reader? Is such a bond possible or even probable?_" He looked back over what he wrote with a satisfied smirk.One thing that could be said about him, was he knew how to 'crap on.'

"Not bloody likely." He muttered, out loud, though he didn't add it to the document.

"_The text explores these questions in depth and detail. Both the beggar and the Princess 'remember' the moment of their meeting with crystal clarity, the repetition of this idea enforces the bond of something sacred and worshipped and that all Avians seek._"

"ROY!" A female voice rolled up the branches of the tree in which the mansion of the Mustangs was situated. He winced, poking his head out of the window of his tree house home to see the face of his mother turned up at him.

"What?" He called loudly, not quite the yell his mother had given to attract his attention.

"Get ready, fledgling!" She snapped "We have to meet with the majesties in half an hour and you know how long the flight takes to get there!"

Roy winced, pulling his head in from the window. He had forgotten completely about his mother and father's meeting with the rulers of the planet. The boy glanced once at his homework, and decided that it could wait until he got back, and now he at least had a plausible excuse as to not do the work. He growled and saved the few sentences he had written before pulling out one of his best robes for the trip to the palace.

Such an event as going to the palace so that his father could discuss plans with the king was not a rare occurrence in Roy's life. His father was the chief in command of the armies of the planet, and high hopes were for Roy that he would follow in his father's footsteps and secure the position when the new prince was old enough. (Of course, as the new prince was only a four season old baby, that time was significantly far enough away that Roy didn't have to ponder the issue very often.) Standing in front of the tall dress mirror which stood adjacent to his closet, Roy grumbled and wrestled a black shirt over his head with a small emblem of a leaping horse over the right shoulder. It was standard noble custom to wear such a shirt, the house's crest that an Avian wore was nearly as important as the house itself. He glared in the mirror, and his coal grey eyes glared back from under what everyone called his "mother's lashes." He would growl as they said this. It wasn't his fault, after all, that he had inherited most of his mother's features. He scowled at the mirror angrily. A thin, lithe build, narrow face, pale skin, and glossy black hair that fell about his face with elegance few could achieve even after hours in a salon peered back at him with a simalar look.

...Roy hated the fact he was a 'pretty boy.' He truly did.

He struggled with fixing the buttons under his newly developing 'Adult Wings'(These created a whole in the shirt so that his wings could poke through) and gloated briefly in his achievement of being the first in his year group to have their fledgling wings replaced by the larger, glossier, more efficient second set. He was also proud of the colour he had received from his father, jet black and with only a slight blue sheen obvious in the light. He didn't think he would have been able to bear it, if he'd received his mother's dark purple colouring. The comments he would have received about that... Well, they didn't really merit thinking about.

"RONALD MUSTANG WOULD YOU HURRY UP!" his mother yelled from branches lower down his tree home.

He twitched and pulled on his pants with a growl. In a snap decision, he vowed to himself that he would change his name as soon as he was old enough to.

* * *

The palace was what one would expect of an Avian structure. Like all the buildings on the small third planet orbiting a White Giant star by the name of Vian, it was built in the towering trees that spanned and covered the whole of the planet not underwater. The height above the forest floor was a significant part of the structure. Any lower, and the ravaging beasts of the world would easily be able to terrorise the occupants of the trees. The palace wound its way around over twenty of the wooden overlord-like trees, and was made from minerals found on the rare and highly dangerous missions of miners on the planet's surface. The structure was mostly wooden, with the occasional large panels of glass (both an exquisite and rare material) and intricate designs of hardened tree sap skirting through gaps in the wood. This tree sap when placed at intervals where itwould catch the light that filtered through the underbrush would sparkle like diamonds. It was rather pretty.

Roy Mustang flapped his overly large wings shakily, still struggling to get used to the ten foot long creations. His struggle to get used to the monstrosities was not going well since they had grown in. He had faceplanted more within the short space of having fully developed wings than in his whole flight career as a fledgling.

Avian wings are much like human teeth. The first set is small, and developed shortly after the birth of the Avian, and generally 'falls off' around the Avian's twelfth or thirteenth year of life, though the age gap ranges to about seventeen, the latest documented case being twenty-five. Less than one earth month later (or one Avian season), the 'angel' goes through a painful, one week process where the adult wings will 'grow in' and the avian will have reached a metaphoric adulthood. Technology which is quickly expanding on the planet has developed medicines or 'growth enhancers' which accelerate this period of growth into a time slot of one minute or less. However, as Roy discovered, this is both much more excruciating for the Avian, and much messier. This was helpful, for it meant that even if an Avian's first set of wings were to be removed, another set would take their place around the creature's fifteenth year of life.

He flapped harder, trying to get a decent enough uplift to reach the level of his mother and father flying ahead of him. Today was the day he was to meet the Avian prince, the first person other than the royal family to receive such a privilege. The baby, only a mere four seasons old had finally grown his fledgling wings and thus was safely able to have visitors. It was meant to be a thrilling experience for Roy, being one of the first to see the infant, but really, as all fourteen year old boys are, he looked upon it with heavy scepticism and an air of regret. _He_ didn't want to see some stupid whiny brat. (Of course, he didn't _dare_ mention this fact to his father. He did have some sense.) He glared ahead at the beautiful Avian palace, and flapped once more almost futilely.

Though he didn't know it, he was moving towards a moment that would change his life forever.

* * *

Roy glared.

The baby cooed up at him. So, he glared again.

He had just been informed by his mother and father that this... _thing_ was going to be in his care when he _had to leave the planet_ in five days. The baby didn't even look that special. It was small, (The author allows herself a brief moment to giggle) pink, and almost bald, minus a small amount of blond fuzz covering its head. Its eyes were startlingly golden, and like all infants and fledglings, its downy wings were white. Briefly Roy wondered what colour they would be when it grew up.

"His name is Edward." Queen Trisha told him with a warm smile. Roy looked at the child as if it were a deformed alien with three heads and seven fingers. (That is to say he gave it a completely blank look.) He looked at the queen, who was still wearing that warm smile and gently brushing her chestnut hair behind her ear with an elegant hand, then back to Edward cooing up at him happily and reaching out to grab a black feather that had strayed a tiny bit too close to the child for Roy's comfort.

"Oh." He supplied in a small voice, too stuck by what he'd been told only moments before to worry about titles.

He, him, Ronald Mustang, **ROY **was going to be looking after this child. On a trip. To the trading partners of the Avians a planet over.And for a year and a half. He didn't know the first thing about children, except that up until he'd received his adult wings, he'd been one.

And not only all that, but the infant in the crib below him was cooing up at him happily, as if nothing could be better.

"I know that it will be hard for you, Ronald." He didn't dare correct the queen, but he flinched slightly at the name she used, "But a disease is quickly ravaging our home. We, those who have not caught the disease must flee before it is transferred to us. We have to leave all who have it behind, and all who have not contracted it must come with us." Her eyes fell. "Edward... is our only hope."

Roy swallowed. The queen was three seasons pregnant. He knew that. He also knew that she would come on the ship while leaving her ill husband behind. And somehow, just by looking at her warm beauty, he knew that it would break her. The queen needed him aboard the vessel to look after the future king and his royal sibling if that happened. Shakily, he nodded. "I'll...I'll go." He stuttered, talking around a lump in his throat and fighting back tears. _Be cold, be impassive, be an Avian, have the strength._ The words rolled through his mind, the mantra of an avian warrior. "I'll go with you." Inwardly he felt like crying. Outwardly his face was set in stone.

The queen, however, smiled brightly at him. "Do you want to hold Edward, Roy?" She gently picked up her little boy. "He'd love to meet you." Roy gulped and extended his arms, the baby was gently placed into them.

It all happened in an instant and it was a moment he would remember for the rest of his life.It was clarity unlike any other that Roy had experienced in his short fourteen years of existence, and it was frightening. Everything, every sense, every sound, every molecule of his being narrowed down to the small child in his arms. The reeling roll it caused ran up his bones and through his soul. His centre of being was struck with something, some unexplainable need to protect the infant from anything and everything at the same time. It was wonderful yet terrifying. And then, as quickly as the clarity of everything in his life being solely focused on one point struck him down, it left again, leaving him gasping for air and staring in wide eyed wonder at the seemingly innocent child in his arms. Shakily, he gave Edward back to his mother, the baby clinging to him slightly as he passed the boy over.

"It is done then." His father spoke from behind him, and Roy jumped. He hadn't heard the man enter the room. "One and a half years from now, you will return, and all will be well." Roy stared. Did the man mean what he'd just felt? Nothing in his life had ever, ever come close to it, and the only thing he could relate it to was the moment of meeting from the fairytale he had read for school.

He nodded; turning away to look at the baby being replaced in the crib. _What _was_ that?_ He was silent for the rest of the visit.

* * *

Days later, the ship with all the healthy Avians they could gather left the port. Roy's parents had stayed behind to help the sick, and some part of Roy cried out for leaving them. Cradling Edward in his arms while the queen saw to her people he felt none of the shocking clarity of the first time he had held the child. He bid his parents a bleak farewell, wrestling with his emotions to make sure his face remained an impassive mask, the familiar mantra of _Be strong_ echoing through his head. Some small part of Roy found it strange that only a week ago, his main concern had been completing an oral in time for school, and that now it was the survival of his species.

The inside of the ship was beautiful, modelled to be exactly like the planet on the outside, complete with smaller versions of the towering trees, and the more docile animals of home. The differences between the ship and home were apparent, though the designers had tried to hide them as much as possible. For example, the air never grew quite so stale on the planet, and you could try and scale the trees for eternities, but never reach the top in the forests, where here if you looked hard enough, the dome metallic roof could be seen. Around the central chamber was a mass of steel, so unfamiliar from the normal wooden surroundings Roy had learnt to expect. Steel had only ever been used for electronic components in the past, due to the difficulties and dangers involved in mining and to see a whole enclosure made of that substance, silicon, porcelain, it was not at all like an Avian to live in such a sterile cage.

_It's only a year and a half_. Roy kept reminding himself, _Just a year and a half, until the antidote is made and we can go home._ Still, the cold impassiveness of the interior was frightening and dangerous at the same time.

Roy hated it.

He stepped gently onto one of the steel platforms around the inside edge of the giant dome. He was still holding the infant in his arms as he peered out of one of the triple glazed windows designed to take any amount of pressure. Sadly searching the crowd in the trees below, he saw his mother and father holding up a banner almost dejectedly. "We believe in you." It read, and while normally Roy would have died with embarrassment, he had to fight back tears as he hoisted the child into a more suitable position and waved with one hand.

He wasn't the only young one aboard the ship. The rest were crowded about the windows, children of all ages, sobbing and waving farewells to their parents. The engines of the ship started with a roar and soon they were all floating away, Roy's face still stuck in that impassive mask as below him his parent's faces grew smaller and smaller, until finally, he could not make them out through the trees. Even then, as he lightly bounced a fussing Edward, he did not cry. He did not cry as he took the boy back to him mother's room and deposited him in the baby's crib. He did not cry as he spent the day being introduced to the other healthy children on the ship. Nor did he cry as he ate his lunch with a group of these people who had immediately accepted him and his impassive disposition. He couldn't, as he walked the long steel corridors to the sleeping chambers, wooden panelled to bring a touch of home into the metal monstrosity he was on board. Not a tear fel from his eyes as he changed into nightclothes and pulled back the downy blankets on a futon-like sleeping mat.

He curled up into a tight ball under those blankets, however, clutching a small plushie horse to his chest. And then, the dam broke, the mask fell and Roy Mustang cried. He sobbed until the tears ran out, and he stared blankly into space with red rimmed eyes. Roy of the noble house of Mustang let his brain shut down, until finally sleep filled with dreams of home overtook him.

* * *

What happened next, none of the crew ever knew. They had been travelling for nearly a season and were nearing their destination when all communication had blacked out. Navigation had followed as some kind of magnetic storm bore down upon the ship, rocking the contents too and fro. A sleep wave seemed to strike down the ship. Roy, who'd been standing by Edward's crib at the time, looking after the boy under the watchful glare of the queen would only remember later watching Edward's eyes droop suddenly closed, and panic briefly overcoming him until a wave of sleep forced his eyes closed as well. All was silent as the storm outside whistled around the ship, and when it died, the crew would slowly come to, their destination far away from anywhere even close to home.

Sparkling below them was a dusty red ball of rock, a planet no one had seen before, even in the history books. Scattered along its surfaces were strange glass domes where civilisation appeared to be thriving. The people within the domes were strange, Roy noticed as they pulled closer to the planet's surface, now actually within viewing distance of the glass monstrosities. Their appearance was almost identical to that of the Avians, except for their strange lack of wings. The ship pulled down into a graceful landing, the computers producing a printout of the atmosphere and temperature of the new planet. It was quickly decided that with a carbon Dioxide concentration that high, life could not survive out there. Hence the domes.

They had attempted to make peaceful contact with the strange creatures, but they had seemed hell bent on war no matter the precautions taken against it.

So, when one night, while Roy was on obligatory guard duty, it really came as no surprise that they attacked. And Roy told himself, as they stormed the ship, that he could stand up to them, even as he had to watch stronger men than he gutted with high power lasers that could almost cut holes in the ship. He gasped as dead bodies fell around him, and he stood boldly in front of the queen's chambers, fingers raised in the perfect position to snap, to use those techniques he had learnt on his home planet, to continue the survival of the species. He watched as men flung themselves forward only to slump down as their legs were clean shaven off, their flesh burnt, their mouths open in one final scream of agony. He watched as the strange Avians-who-were-not-Avians died at the hands of the soldiers, some stabbed and impaled on the very steel that made up the ship as it rammed out of the wall, through their gullets and splayed their blood upon the far wall in grotesque and misshapen splatters. His fingers were poised in the air, hands ready and willing, but his brain could not get his fingers to move, He couldn't make that single snap as the planet's inhabitants rand forward, and stormed the ship. Men died before him, children younger than he was threw themselves forward to protect both the royals and the heir of one of the most powerful families in the world. Person after person threw themselves outward only to be thrown back, dead.

The bodies began to pile up, and still Roy couldn't move. He couldn't swallow the lump in his throat, He couldn't breathe, and he couldn't get his damn fingers to move! Out of the corner of his vision, he saw the bar coming, but he couldn't dodge. And when it struck, Roy Mustang went down in a world of spinning black, a battle racing all around him and he, unable to participate.

It was that night that the Humans took their prince from them. Roy would learn of it two days later when he finally woke up from the blow. Nothing compared to the pain that gripped him at the news, not even having to leave his parents behind as he traversed through space on the godforsaken space ship that would become his home. Trisha Elric had died in the birth of her second son, some time after that, and the family that took Alphonse Elric in was a quiet one, determined not to let the boy know of his heritage until the opportune time. Alphonse grew up never knowing he was connected to the prince. Roy was not so lucky.

* * *

Slowly and agonisingly, fifteen years passed, and the boy who had frozen at what he still considered the crucial moment had become a battle hardened soldier, and the head of the Avian fleet. Still, however, any free time that this position could award him was spent looking for the fate of their prince. Hay moment the man could spare was dedicated to scouring the systems of the planet Mars and the neighbouring Earth in a seemingly futile search for the baby they had lost.

Uncertain to Edward's fate, Roy had been giving up hope until stumbling across a psychriatric file quite by accident during a routine search of Earth's major facilities and professions. A recent acquisition to the largest psychriatric practise in Earth's largest continent had caught his eye. An extremely feminine blonde boy with startling golden eyes had peered out of the case photo. A quick check of age had revealed the boy to be fifteen and a half, and the key, around his neck was the symbol of the house of Elric, of the royal family. Hardly daring to believe his eyes, Roy had looked at the silver winged snake wrapped around a cross pendant. Coincidence was quickly becoming nullified as more and more of the boy's story fell into place. He'd been having visions of wings, similar to those of one about to 'mature', he had a low blood tolerance to alcohol, and he had never felt like he had belonged.

After fifteen years of searching, Roy Mustang had found Edward.

The only question that remained, was would Edward remember? After all, not all fairytales had happy endings.

* * *

.

* * *

_A/n: Hokai. I'm incredibly sorry for the terribleness of this chapter. I had originally planned to have all this set out a completely different way, but I thought you'd want to know a bit about Roy. _

_This chapter has not been beta'ed, nor drafted. This is it. Raw. Completely typed out and only typed out._

_...Usually I have about 4-5 drafts before I even contemplate putting it up. But I thought you guys might kill me if I make you wait any longer._

_A few explanations:_

_Avians have two sets of wings during their lifespan. The first drops out/off around the age of 13, kind of like how humans have lost all their teeth by the age of about 12 (Cos I'm special, I lost my last tooth at 14... but that's not important) THEN the adult wings grow in. The adult wings do NOT push out the other wings. _

_...Yeah. The Avians have like a FULL biology that is all their own._

_To get an idea of what an Avian's wings look like, have a look at the wing structure of an albatross. (biggest bird in the world, yeahman) Roy's wings are black, with a blue sheen, kinda like a crow, or an Australian Raven. Edward's wing colouring is more like the red part of a red Maccaw, while Al's wings, (when they grow in) will be the blue colour of a Western Australian Splendid Blue Fairy Wren. _

_The wooden structure inside of the Avian spaceship looks like one effing big forest with effing big treehouses in it, while the dangers that wander around on the ground of the Avian home planet...? Did you read Charlie and the chocolate factory when you were a kid? Think the OompaLoompa country, and all the beasts there. _

_Last but not least, have **most** of the gaping 'plotholes' been filled yet? There's still a couple of others out there, but they'll be filled up soon._

_Anyways, Feed a hungry Author? (And thanks to Cringe for the beautiful fanart.)_


	6. Fly away home

"I wonder what it would be like in a blackout." Blue eyes met golden ones over the rim of a handheld game to enquire as to the meeting of gold's sudden statement. It was rare that the boy who the eyes belonged to would speak, unheard of that he would actively start conversation.

Winry and Edward were situated in the small apartment that housed the girl and her aging grandmother. Unlike Edwards, which had an air of gloom with its dirty walls and newspaper coated floors, the Rockbell residence was bright and inviting, the walls painted a soft yellow and the large couch that Winry was resting on in the family room a contrasting sea green. Picture frames hung off the walls and played happy scenes of family life over and over again, there were even flowers on a coffee table over to one side.

Edward was lying on the floor, running his fingers slowly through the plush carpet as if it was the softest silk and his eyes darted away as he began frowning thoughtfully at the strands closest to him. "Just saying." He commented bluntly.

"You're _weird_, Ed." Winry stated in her patented matter-of-fact, no-nonsense tone. It was something that she had inherited from her grandmother, an ability to insult without pushing boundaries. She could sound serious and no one would ever take offence from her words unless she truly meant them.

Ed laughed because of this, rolling from his stomach onto his back and peering at her upside-down. The laugh wasn't forced at all, which surprised Winry; it was something she hadn't heard in years. "I guess I am." He commented in a whimsical voice. She prodded him gently with her foot.

"Why the sudden philosophy?" She asked him, grinning down as he poked his tongue out at her and lightly shoved her foot away. It was times like this when Winry could forget that Edward was sullen and moody, amazed though she was that she had actually managed to touch him without him flinching violently away or freezing on the spot. Almost gone from those crystal and gold eyes was the sullen, sulky boy she knew, replaced with something she hadn't seen there for a long while. "It is like you." She teased, "But I'm still curious."

He growled lightly. "I was just wondering." He said, and his eyes flickered a shade darker as he spoke. "I mean, we've come to rely so much on electricity. We use it to see, to cook, to entertain ourselves. It's just interesting." He looked at her, seriousness in his expression and putting her at unease. "It keeps the planet breathing now that there are barely any trees left. What would happen if something went wrong and there was no more Electricity anymore?" Winry shuddered. Such thoughts chilled her to the bone. Edward hadn't stopped yet, however, the brief relapse of his self into the eyes of her childhood friend gone, killed by a dark and brooding look. "What would happen if you lost something so interwoven into your life, you didn't realise just how much you relied on it until it was too late?"

Alarm bells were ringing in Winry's head, something in Ed's expression warning her that he wasn't just talking about horror tales and rhetorical situations anymore. Something was telling her that this ran deeper than the here and now, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out what. "I dunno Ed... I guess..."

He glanced up at her suddenly and sharply. "Why do you hate Angels so much, Win?" The unexpected interruption threw her through a quick loop. She gave him a blank stare as her thoughts tried to catch up with the new track of conversation. Edward was acting scatterbrained, even for him.

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was all connected somehow, that the things Edward spoke of were dark and brooding for all the jovial atmosphere of her home. This was the boy who one told her that her bathroom looked like it was straight out of the murder scene of a movie after all. "They killed my parents, Ed." She reminded him, looking away as she did so. Well past grieving, Winry still couldn't fight back a slight pang of remorse as she brought up the subject matter of her parent's death. "I hate them for that."

The words rang hollow and emotionless.

The warm colour left the room slowly, the attitudes of the teens leaving an icy chill that hung about the marigold walls and drained them slowly of happiness until they looked rather silly and out of place. The cheery frames added a sense of irony to the scene. Edward seemed unperturbed by it. "If you could find the Angel who killed your parents, what would you do, Winry?"

She glared at him, her tolerance quickly waning. "Why all the questions?" She snapped. Edward knew the answer to that question already. He knew it was her life's dream to enter the military so she could avenge her family.

He shook his head sadly at her anger. "There's no reason in particular." He replied, the mask of the cold and aloof teen slipping firmly into place. He glared at her, the frigid temperature surprising Winry out of her fury. "Just so you know, Ana and Nick were as good as killed by humans." He said softly. "I don't hate them."

Winry opened her mouth to protest that, to argue that their situations were insanely different but she stopped upon meeting his eyes. His pupils were so small within his iris' that they appeared swallowed by a sea of amber and gold with bright orange flecks which Winry was sure she'd never seen before. The outer eye seemed almost unnaturally white, blazing even on the slightly pale and sickly face they were set into. Winry shuddered, as the video game dropped from her hands onto the couch beside her.

Edward blinked and the moment was gone, however Winry could not get the vision of those eyes out of her head. They were frighteningly akin to those of an eagle, and they had shocked her down to her bones.

He grinned up at her from the floor of the living room, his serious and soul searching expression gone for one of mirth. "What time is it Winry?" He asked jovially with a puppy-like demeanour. "I've got to go out somewhere this afternoon."

Winry felt her left eyebrow creep up to her hairline. She didn't comment on the fact that her best friend was such a shut-in that mushrooms were beginning to take root on his shoes. "It's four thirty, Ed. And you could have checked that by just turning around you know."

He shrugged at her, standing up slowly. "I've gotta go now anyway." He said, scanning the room for the aforementioned shoes and wandering off to aimlessly search the house when he didn't find them. Winry sighed and headed towards the front door, picking up the boots from the hallway as she went. She greeted his sheepish smile with a strange expression, holding out the footwear expectantly.

He took them from her and sat down to wrestle them on. "Thanks." He muttered distractedly.

"Why are you in such a hurry?" Winry teased lightly.

"...Late." One boot on, he started forcing on the other.

Winry's other eyebrow followed the same ascent as the first. "Oh?" She grinned at him. "You're acting like a girl before a first date. Is there something I don't know?"

He hit her on the leg playfully before standing up and flashing a mysterious smile. "Even if there Was, Win, do you really think I'd tell you?" He laughed at her.

She shrugged. "You never know." The smile didn't leave her face as she opened the door for him. "See you tomorrow?"

"...Bye Win." He didn't look at her as he stepped out of the apartment.

_...Odd._ She puzzled, closing the door behind him.

* * *

"Okay, let's see." Edward muttered to himself as he looked over the sparse belongings he had gathered to take with him to the meeting today. "Do I have everything I need?" He sighed. He would leave with Mustang if the man asked him to, it was part of the deal.

It certainly looked it, he realised as his eyes travelled over the notebooks, handheld computer on which all of his important files were stored and an assortment of clothes and books that he couldn't do without. The Rabbits too sat by the door looking obediently grotesque amongst a collection of alternative music discs. He flashed them a small and brief smile before poking his head into each room to check for any stray items that may have escaped his gaze.

He picked up some random hygiene materials from the bathroom, but his final dilemma came in the only room in his house untouched by anyone other than him.

He stood by his bed and looked down at the photo and doll in his hands with a dark expression and a heavy heart. His eyes were glazed over and an outsider looking in would see the expression as lost and alone. He shook his head suddenly and threw both doll and picture frame back onto the bed.

_Don't be sentimental, you fool._ He told himself.

He left the room, shoved all of his important belongings into a faded blue backpack, whistled to the rabbits (Who followed obediently) and left the apartment.

He turned off the light behind him and didn't look back.

* * *

"Do you make it a habit to be late, Princess?" Edward bristled at the condescending tone used and turned quickly, his braided hair whipping about and striking his cheek. He flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment at having been caught unawares again.

"No more than you make it a habit of being an annoying bastard." He replied, trying to regain his composure. The retort, however, sounded weak even to his ears so it came as no surprise that Mustang, He-of-the-Smirk, didn't bother to dignify it with a reply. Pulling his favourite facial expression, the man sighed and leaned backward onto the glass railing of the balcony. Edward noted with some dissatisfaction that the man was hiding his wings again and that he hadn't brought Alphonse this time.

Instead of the teen Edward knew and had taken an instant liking to, there were two non-descript looking soldierly types, decked out in a full blue uniform. Mustang himself wasn't wearing it, but from the casual way he stood it was easy to tell who was in charge in this situation. Roys' smirk grew as he noticed Edward looking over the two others. "You said you would be here with two others, Princess." He offered cryptically. "I merely prepared accordingly." Edward scowled.

They stood almost like bodyguards by him, not bothering with the task of hiding their own wings like Roy was (Edward didn't know whether that was to throw him off kilter or to place an ease in the situation, and try as he could, he just didn't know how to work it out). The woman on the left was balanced perfectly on the railing, feet shoulder-width apart and seemingly uncaring of the multi-storey drop below her if she should fall backwards. She was blonde and fierce looking, with brown eyes that promised no nonsense but a loyal friend if treated well. They had peered at Edward curiously when he had first introduced himself (At Mustang's pointed hint) but now surveyed the surroundings with the ease of disinterest coupled with long practise. She had brown wings, Edward noted curiously and he wondered secretly how many different colourings were possible. It was something he would look up, or ask Al if he did actually get taken to wherever it was that these creatures came from. According to Mustang, her name was "Lisa Hawkeye." Edward had vaguely wondered about the Avian sense of humour.

The other was completely different again, standing on the right hand side of Mustang and looking wholly too innocent to be allowed. He would squeak whenever he caught Edward looking at him as if caught with his hand in the cookie jar (Actually, Ed found this quite amusing and was making sure that he looked at the man as often as possible just to get a reaction.). He looked at the most to be around nineteen years of age and had the appearance of one who'd never truly lost his puppy fat. The uncertain and almost shy smile he had flashed when introduced was something that left Ed with the impression of a happy, but shy personality. His hair was messy and his eyes hidden behind square spectacles. All in all he looked like the kind of guy who mostly went unnoticed, but would always support one when one was in need. "Cain Feury." Mustang had called him, and Edward had stored the name away for later use. Feury himself had squeaked and muttered a quiet greeting.

"Are all you Avians this weird?" Edward asked, looking from one body guard to the other. The woman sent him a reprimanding look and he ducked his head almost instinctively.

The rabbits were having a rather fun time, Edward noted as he looked down. They were slowly creeping out of the shadows towards Mustang and his two companions, sniffing the air and looking genuinely curious. _Scientific minds._ Edward thought fondly. _There's no stopping them._

Mustang, however, did not share this same view. "What _are_ those things?" he asked with mild and poorly hidden disgust. He dubiously looked at Ana who was approaching Cain with an awed expression. The poor Avian appeared terrified, pressing himself up against the glass railing. Ana blinked at him. (_Rawr!_ Went Ed's inner voice. _I'm a scareee monster!_)

"Wow." She said softly, raising one stubby paw to point openly at his wings. At this point Cain nearly took off in flight and Edward let loose a chuckle.

"She," he said, stepping forward and running a hand through her sparse white hair fondly, "Is Ana. She will not hurt you, and neither will Nick." _Well, he might kill you by accident._ He thought, but didn't add it. _He is rather boisterous._

Nick chose this opportunity to leap up at Mustang, who, Edward noted with some satisfaction, recoiled in poorly hidden appal. "Yes, but what in the name of trees _are _they?" His voice was riddled with a type of bemusement.

Edward laughed at the delicately blank expression on the third party member's face. Hawkeye seemed very reluctant now to step down from her rail perch. He could understand why they were recoiling easily, for Ana and Nick were definitely repulsive to look at, strange crosses of human and rabbits that didn't seem to work no matter what way one looked at them. It seemed impossible for such creatures to survive, let alone be curious and have distinct and friendly personalities.

He sighed. _Just like Frankenstein's monster._ Grotesque and frightful on the outside, warm and loving on the inside. "They're the result of a human genetics experiment gone bad." He informed Mustang and the others. "They used to be researchers at one of the government buildings riddled throughout the city. One day the government decided it needed human subjects to participate in an experimental and highly dangerous process and they were chosen. Their DNA was combined with that of two domestic rabbits. (I think the rabbits died in the end) and most unfortunately, the experiment failed." He ran a finger over the rim of one of Ana's ears. She leaned into the touch obediently.

Mustang stared at him openly. "Humans... did this to other humans...?" he appeared at a loss for words. _SCORE!_ Inner-Ed cheered.

"Yup." He said. "The creatures you are looking at used to be my adopted parents."

All three Avians looked most horrified now, Hawkeye's expression finally slipping with a crinkle of her brow. Edward sighed. "Anyway, I believe _I_ was meant to be the one asking you questions, not the other way 'round." This appeared to bring the three back to a focus point and they all directed their eyes away from the rabbits and to him. "The first of which is... If I'm like you, and I'm an Avian, why don't I have wings?"

Mustang shrugged. "Lift up your shirt." He stated calmly, fixing Ed with one of those infuriating looks.

"**_WHAT!_**"

"Lift. Up. Your. Shirt. It is hardly a difficult request, Edward."

Edward scowled, but not to be outdone by the man, he did so. Mustang nodded smugly and Edward felt a violent urge run through him. It was gone as quickly as it came, and was only shown in a sudden twitching of a nerve above his left temple.

Mustangs' brow furrowed. "Do those red marks down your side hurt you?" He asked, seemingly innocently.

"...Occasionally." Edward replied with a shrug, pulling his shirt back down again. The seasons were starting to turn from autumn to winter and it was getting chilly out. Thus he was wearing a long sleeved shirt with a red turtleneck over the top of it, and long, comfortable black pants. His silver Flamel necklace was still in its place around his neck (he never took it off) and his golden stud had been replaced by a ruby drop that Winry had given him for his birthday last year. "Why?"

Mustang smirked (again) and shook his head. "Then you needn't worry about why you don't have wings, Edward, that problem will solve itself in a week or two." Edward sent him a quizzical look but Mustang didn't elate. The twitch ran through his nerve again. If there was one thing that Edward hated, it was people who played their cards so close to their chest that not even a molecule could squeeze between the two. (He conveniently ignored the fact that he, himself was one of these people.)

"If there are no further questions then Princess?"

Edward shook his head.

"Good." Mustang rested a hand briefly upon the boy's shoulder. "Because we do have a rather tight schedule to keep to, and the Avians are looking forward to seeing their prince for the first time in fifteen years."

Edward cast a glace over his shoulder at the sliding door onto the balcony. _So this is it._ He thought almost sadly. _I wonder how long it'll take before Winry figures out I'm missing._ He turned forward with pained eyes and (gulping once) nodded to Mustang. "I'm ready to go." He said softly. _I'm sorry, Winry._

Mustang nodded curtly, wrapping arms around his waist and flapping invisible wings once. Behind him his two companions picked up a rabbit each and took flight behind him. Black wings burst into view and flapped once more, much stronger than before.

Edward was grateful suddenly to Roy. The way the man had picked him up meant he couldn't turn his head and watch his life fall away from him as he rose at an outlandish speed towards destinations unknown. However, Edward was also in a position that he didn't see a blue-cloaked Avian flying on underdeveloped wings about 500 metres to the group of six's right.

* * *

_Well Done, Alphonse._ Thought Roy as he took the boy further away from his home of fifteen years and to the cage of a ship that was the true home of the Avians now. It must have been causing him great stress to be leaving everything behind and start on a journey with three complete strangers of a race he was taught was enemy from day one. He commended the boy's bravery on that front.

Nevertheless, Mustang couldn't shake a belief that Edward placed a very shallow value on bonds, or at least that was all he would show on the surface level. He was quickly coming to realise that Edward was deeper than he had previously thought and that breaking through his defensive layers was going to be a challenge even for someone who could read minds ever so slightly.

/Why am I leaving? Why did I decide to do this? I'm sorry Winry, Aunty, Nina. Oh God. **NINA**. I arranged a play date with her tomorrow. What's she going to feel when her Edward-little-brother doesn't show up? Maybe I should just demand they turn back around and go home./ The turbulence present in Princess' thoughts startled Mustang.

"Calm down, Edward." He said softly, too afraid to rub his back, partly because of what he knew Edward's reaction would be, partly because he was afraid that he would drop the boy. "You're trembling." He offered by way of explanation.

"Am not." Came a gruff and almost childish reply. Roy sighed and didn't pry into his thoughts anymore.

Edward was so certain of leaving. He knew what he had wanted to do and had no qualms in doing it. The boy could place his emotions aside in an instant; put all bonds on hold or at least sideline them in name of the greater goal. However, even to Roy, known as the great manipulator couldn't figure out what on Earth, or Mars, that goal could be.

_What an interesting character._ Roy thought softly to himself.

"You needn't be worried." He said softly. "This is all just a new adventure for you."

"Not worried."

"Come then, Princess." He hoisted the boy up higher into his grip as an inexplicable urge caused him to purr huskily into Edward's ear. "Come fly away with me." Edward's violent thrashing nearly caused Roy to drop him, but it had been worth it to see the bright red blush that graced his cheeks, and the embarrassment that gripped his frame.

Oh yes, Edward still might be a little finicky about leaving, but the next few days were going to be _fun.

* * *

_

_.

* * *

_

_A/n: I swear, there is ACTUALLY a reason as to why Edward doesn't have wings. I just can't reveal it yet, because no one in Ed's immediate circle (Either human or the soon to be one of Avians) knows. The only people who did probably know are Ana and Nick and look at them. _

_Hell, maybe THEY didn't even know. That's not something I'm saying for certain until later. (Yes, I do know, I'm just not telling you guys. –heh-)_

_I really enjoyed writing the scene with Winry in this chapter. Because the girl's so vibrant and full of emotions, she's actually a fairly fun and versatile character to write. However, like all the characters of Hagaren, you do get the feeling that she's hiding more than she's letting on. Including that into her character is rather difficult. (A CHALLENGE! MUAHAHA!)_

_And before I go, I just want to acknowledge all my wunnerful reviewers. There's one person in particular on my 'frequent Reviewers' list who really make me want to get the next chapter out a lot faster. This person is **Uchiha Kuraiko**. Kuraiko always leaves long reviews that really brighten up my day, because of the amount of thought that goes into them. The questions that are brought up inspire me to push on so that I can actually get to the answers without spoiling the fic. _

_All my reviews are vastly appreciated and always inspire me to get the next chapter out just a little bit faster. Often when I'm feeling down I'll go back and read through them, and they'll never fail to brighten up my day. There are so many other wonderful reviewers that I want to mention, but to bring them all up would make this Author's note WAAAY longer than it already is._

_So never fear, even though I don't physically reply to your reviews (I would like to, but my schedule simply doesn't give me enough time) I do read and appreciate every single one. Seriously, when I first began this story I didn't expect it to become so... I don't know what word to use here. (-heh-) But I didn't expect to get nearly such a big response as it has. Thanks everyone!_

_Now, don't let me get all sappy, yah hear? Leave a review for a hungry Authoress? _


	7. Like None other

"It is the height of sophistication and class, and is the single most pinnacle of strength in the Avian fleet. Over half a mile long, it is made of an undetectable material to most radar, enabling it to go unseen, unheard and un-sensed through any atmospheric pressure and conditions. The weapons system is impeccable, with the trump card being..."

"...The fact that it looks like a giant penis?" Edward interrupted Mustang's rant with a tired ease. Mustang himself, choked.

"...Well, no one said that the engineers weren't horny bastards now did they?" He quipped back, effectively silencing the boy. Edward had been on the ship a grand total of two days so far, and was already a well established, if relatively secluded member of the ship's crew. The fact that he was royalty amongst these people was still something he was getting used to, in fact, the first time he had been summoned by the title of 'Your Highness' he had looked around to see who the person had been addressing. Edward glanced up at the screen which was displaying the outside of the ship for his benefit. The main shaft (Edward allowed himself a small grin) was indeed over half a mile long, with two fin-like structures protruding from around the middle to back area. The whole of the outside of the ship was a chrome-white, which Edward thought was probably to keep the radiation from the sun outside of the ship where it belonged. The outside was impressive, but not nearly as much so as the inside of the large vessel.

Mustang, noting Edward's silence had continued to explain the mechanisms of the ship, but it fell onto deaf ears. Edward was too busy looking about the bridge with the same curiosity and lust for learning that the whole ship had installed upon him ever since his arrival. The entire fact that the ship was interesting was enough to encourage him out of the sleeping quarters he had been given and explore. (He'd gotten himself lost more than once and had to often ask others where he was and how to get back to the spots in the ship he knew.) The ship was, in a word, beautiful. The Avians loved nature, it seemed, and the entirety of the inside was covered in strange plants and tropical flowers. Each room that came off the main hall (A gigantic room that stretched for the entirety of the ship and looked like the rainforests of legend, complete with exotic birds and a creature that resembled a pygmy monkey but wasn't quite one.) was made of steel, but an effort to hide this fact had been made, by panelling the walls with a pinkish wood decorated with a golden-brown sap that was hard and not at all sticky to the touch. Once again, amongst the screens and controls of the bridge, plants were located in large terracotta pots, however, the closer one got to the more delicate controls, the more sterile the environment came due to the risks involved with such instruments.

Mustang looked at him expectantly and Edward sighed. "What?" He asked, knowing all too well that he was caught not paying attention.

"I was just mentioning, Princess, that if you were to look up at the screen about now, you would see that the planet we are orbiting is not, in actual fact, Earth." He replied in that smug tone of his.

Grumbling under his breath, Edward looked up at the screen. His breath stopped.

"That's Mars." He whispered, staring at the blood red planet in awe. It had been something Edward had wanted to see since he knew about the other planets, but he had been unable to do so due to the war.

The pictures he'd seen ever since he was young and the holographic scale models didn't do the planet justice in the least. It spread out in all directions, the surface a palette of a thousand different shades of red, hazing to blue in the distance before disappearing off the scope of the screen. Edward felt his jaw drop and made no effort to hide it from any of the Avians on the bridge, who were all watching his reaction curiously. The beauty of the planet took Edward's breath away.

Mustang laughed. "Tell me, Edward, is that vacant look because of the planet or because I'm so undeniably sexy?" The words made Edward start, and he wrenched his eyes away from the view to glare at Mustang angrily. It was then that he realised exactly how close the man was to him, Mustang's wings were brushing against his side. He took two quick steps back, pointedly making sure that the man noticed. Mustang smirked at him.

"I was just enjoying the view you bastard!" He said to cover the awkward moment.

It occurred to him a moment later that he had said entirely the wrong thing. Glaring at anyone who even dared to look at him sideways, he stormed out of the bridge.

* * *

Alphonse had found Edward (still fuming) some time later, sitting in the crux of a low tree branch. He was watching the two rabbit-creatures he had brought with him from Earth, sometimes looking up to locate a bird whose song caught his interest. The creatures on the ground were becoming decidedly filthy, romping about in the leaf litter and mud as they were, but Al decided to let them do so seeing as the prince on the branch didn't seem to care.

Ed didn't even look at the boy as he approached, the glazed look in his eyes suggesting he was much too far-gone in thought to notice anything outside his own little bubble. The male rabbit immediately came up to Al, begging to be petted on the head, and getting over the slight qualm of disgust he felt (Edward had said that the rabbits were perfectly harmless and really quite charming for all their ugliness.) he obliged it, marvelling in the soft croon of enjoyment it made before running off to play once more. Alphonse sat at the base of the tree and folded his wings behind him.

In the end, it was Edward who broke the silence, just as it was beginning to become awkward for the boy at the base of the tree. Without glancing away from the strange animals, he enquired, "It's Al, right?"

Alphonse nodded, then realising that the prince in the tree wasn't looking at him, vocalised, "Yeah, that's right." Edward gave a small smile that lingered only briefly.

A silence neither awkward nor companionable fell over the two, broken only by the joyous squeals of the rabbits and the birdsong from higher branches. Alphonse watched the rabbit-creatures for a while, as they dug what appeared to be a warren in the thick soil of the forest ground. The male attempted to coax the female into the one he had dug for her, but she seemed to prefer playing hard to get and stepped out of his reach every time he came close. Alphonse found it surprisingly easy, just then, to ignore their outward appearance and watch their interactions. He wondered if this was how the prince felt.

Speaking of the prince... Alphonse looked up at him, grinning happily. "It's great that you've come back to us, your highness." He said. "Ever..."

"Don't call me that." Edward interrupted sharply. "How can I be your prince or whatever if I've never even met an Avian before about three days ago?"

Alphonse was taken aback. Ever since he had been a small child, he had been taught by his parents that one day their prince would come back to them, and that they could go back to their home planet. He, personally had been born on the ship, so he didn't know what the planet looked like, but his conversations with Captain Mustang had always assured him it was like the main hall of the ship, only better. The assumption Alphonse had always made, however, was that the Prince would know how to get them back home.

But here was the fabled prince who had been stolen, the one who was supposedly meant to get them to their home world, and he was barely older than Alphonse himself and knew even less about the Avian homeland then Al did. Alphonse was suddenly very angry at himself. He didn't let it show, however. "You can learn." He said hopefully.

The prince, no, Edward, looked down at him sullenly. "How do you even know I'm your prince? I don't even have wings." He slumped slightly on his tree-branch perch. 'Even if I am a prince, I'd probably stuff up being royalty anyway." The dejected tone carried through strongly to Al's ears.

Alphonse sighed. The mystical, strong and heroic prince he'd been expecting hadn't come after all. Edward was just an Avian, like everybody else on the ship. The only difference was he'd been born into the right family.

But for some reason, Al liked this Edward person better than the prince he'd been hoping for.

* * *

The Rabbits had passed out of Edwards' line of sight by the time Al spoke again. This time, the tone was decidedly hopeful, like the boy had come to some conclusion within himself and was now waiting for Edward to clarify it.

"I brought you something to eat." He said, "Because you missed lunch." Edward looked down at him and nodded with a small smile of thanks. The glow of millions of small lights scattered throughout the canopy of trees made the pink fruit with faint green stripes Al handed up to him appear to be yellow. Edward looked at it curiously.

The skin of the fruit was covered in light fuzz that reminded Edward of a peach, but there were other elements that made it completely foreign to him. It had hard, melon-like skin that would require peeling and was about the size of a small grapefruit. "What is it called?" he asked of the boy below him.

"Oh!" Said Al, clearly surprised. "It's an Erutuf." He pulled out a small knife to skin another of the fruits. Once finished, he held up the blade to Edward who tried to mimic his movements, but failed miserably, managing to get a mixture of pink, green and the faint opaque white of the flesh painted on his hands. Not one to admit defeat, especially at the hands of a piece of fruit, Edward blamed it on a lack of mobility on the part of his right hand and looked down at Al hopefully.

The boy laughed and, taking pity on Edward, handed up half of the remaining, un-mangled fruit. Edward grinned slightly sheepishly, enjoying the strange sense of belonging. Edward mumbled thanks before biting into the flesh of the fruit tentatively. Strangely enough, it tasted slightly of passionfruit, but without the bitter tang of the seeds. Mixed in with other tastes Edward couldn't quite pinpoint, it was delicate and unusual and surprisingly filling for a piece of fruit. Edward devoured the rest of his half and was eyeing Al's hungrily as the boy finished his delicately and slowly.

Al noticed and laughed.

Edward smiled. It was probably the first time he had done so since boarding the ship. "You know, Avians aren't what I expected them to be." He said, eyeing the other.

Alphonse blinked curiously. "Yeah?"

Edward nodded and continued. "On Earth, we were told that Avians were bloodthirsty and wanted only to destroy humans, and everyone hated them. But here, it's like I'm just living with normal, everyday people, the only difference from Humans they have is that they're winged. Oh, and that really strange belief that I'm their prince."

Al giggled at that.

Edward smirked. "In fact, the only person who's not normal on this ship is probably Mustang."

Al glared up at Edward. "Captain Mustang is the highest ranked man aboard, you know. Except maybe you."

Edward grinned. "That means I can insult him without reprimand then?"

Al couldn't help but laugh. After regaining his composure and shooting a mock glare at Edward (Who knew he was failing miserably at feigning innocence) he commented, "You're different to what I expected too, you know."

Edward grinned, "Yeah? How so?"

Edward, in time, would come to learn that the twinkle in Alphonse's eye never meant anything good for those it was directed at. "Well, for one thing," Al commented in an airy and eerily superior tone, "I expected you to be taller..."

Edward lunged out of the tree with a furious cry, just as Al took to the air laughing. And even Edward's heated yells of "COME BACK HERE AND LAND SO I CAN PLUCK YOUR FEATHERS OUT YOU OVERGROWN BIRD!" Couldn't destroy Al's victory.

The rabbits watched on with looks of strangely knowing amusement.

* * *

_.

* * *

A/n: Because writing Edward spazzing is just so much fun. And the rabbits have wormed their way into my heart despite my many attempts to stop them._

_Anyways, no, Al doesn't know that he's related to Ed yet. Its something they'll both find out when the time is right. And for all you who assumed that Al did know? Shame on you. XD just kidding._

_Hopefully I didn't mutilate Al TOO much while writing this. Due to the fact that my writing mainly focuses on the reaction between Ed and Roy in most of my fictions, I don't get that much of a chance to write Al. But hopefully I'll soon have a ficlet up that it Al-based with Mama-Elric in it too. -/shameless self promotion- _

_And OMGWHOAHWTF? 99 reviews? Can you guys not see that this is crap or something? Not that I'm not thankful, but DAYUM. -Throws a party for everyone.- You've made me SO HAPPY! I'd like to thank my Mum, my dad, my dogs... That lizard I found the other day...  
_

_The next update may take a while, because I have to be stupid and religious due to my school being a stupid and religious school holding a stupid and religious camp starting Wednesday, and the day after I get back from that I'm going to Melbourne for a week and Adelaide for a few days to see all the relatives. Hey! This fic STARTED in Adelaide so don't complain, okay?_

_Anyways, leave a review for a hungry Authoress? _


	8. Price of belonging

* * *

One week later found Edward sitting on a high medical bench almost embarrassedly as his prosthetic arm was poked and prodded by Maes Hughes, the ship's intelligence officer. Sitting in only his boxers, he watched as the black haired, bespectacled man bent each finger and joint in turn. "So, What now?" Edward asked. 

The avian with light grey wings, flecked with speckles of brown, looked up at him with a small, wry smile. "Well." He said, flexing Edward's thumb, "Normally, I would request a removal of the arm in question, for a proper inspection by both myself and the captain. But, in this case..." He looked at Edward over the rim of his glasses, revealing sparkling purple eyes. Edward had reacted terribly the first time he has seen them, for their similarities to Nicks had been almost unbearable. Now, the boy didn't even flinch. "I'm guessing that removal of the arm would be quite painful?"

"No." Said Edward. "But putting it back on would be."

"Well, in any case, the arm would require dismantling, and something so fragile, component-wise might not take too well to that. Then there is the inspection itself which might cause unwanted damage, and finally there is the chance that we might not be able to put it together again when we were finished."

Edward winced.

Hughes offered him a bright smile, his eyes crinkling. "Exactly." He ruffled Edward's hair, not in the least bit fazed when the boy jerked back slightly. "Which is why, and this is against my better judgement, mind, we're going to let you keep the arm for the time being."

Ed's sigh of relief was almost inaudible. He happened to be down in the hospital wing, that day, helping Hughes's wife, Gracia to treat the patients, when a sharp series of pains had raced down both his back and his chest simultaneously. Even though he hadn't cried out, or made the slightest sign that it had happened, Gracia had noticed and had forced him into another room for a brief examination. Upon taking off his gloves and long sleeved shirt, Gracia had predictably found out about his arm and summoned her husband at once. During the inspection of his arm, the throbbing pains had become more and more insistent and Edward had stayed silent.

Both Gracia and Hughes had noticed, however.

"However," Said Hughes, drawing Edward back to the present. "I will have to inform Roy about the recent turn of events, because with someone who has lived most of their life on Earth, we can't take any risks."

Edward nodded. The catch was expected and not unwelcome.

"And now, Young Sir!" Hughes grinned violently. "Tell us about the reason you have been flinching on and off for the past hour and a half!"

"It's nothing." Edward replied in a clipped tone.

"Aha!" The older man exclaimed. "You are lying, Mister Edward. I should know. My Elysia tries the same thing!"

Edward groaned. Already he had been victim to at least six rants on the merits and beauty of one Elysia Hughes, Gracia and Hughes' three year old daughter. If the girl was even half of what her father made her out to be, the whole catholic religion could find themselves with a new saviour. He decided to cut off any blathering at the source and answer the man's question. "It's just my back and sides. They only hurt every once in awhile and I'm perfectly fine."

"Ahh." Said Gracia, coming back into the room, sipping from a tall glass of water, "So _that's_ what it is."

"What is?" Asked Edward.

She smiled at him brightly, and with almost the air of a mother surveying her son. Edward squirmed under the look. "Your development of adult wings is about to begin." She informed him.

Edward looked at her in a bemused fashion. "My what?" He demanded, and she shook her head lightly, along with her husband.

"Your Adult, or secondary wings, Edward." Hughes informed him. "They grow in, replacing the original white down ones around your age." He looked slightly white, as Gracia smiled at him like a predator seizing up her prey. He gulped, and when Edward looked at Gracia again, the look was gone.

He thought he heard Hughes mutter something like 'I'm in trouble.' Under his breath, but the man didn't reply to his curious gaze.

"You'll be happy to know," Said Gracia, "That the pain is perfectly normal, a part of growing up that Evolution decided we should experience for some reason." She smiled that motherly smile again and she too ruffled his hair, much to his annoyance. She headed to a small pharmaceutical-type room just off the room where Edward and Hughes sat.

After a moment, Hughes asked, "So, isn't my wife just the most beautiful woman in the known universe?"

Edward stifled a groan and an urge to throttle him.

* * *

In a small government building, somewhere on Earth, a very different conversation was taking place.

"You have two choices." Winry winced at the government official's comment. He was standing so that his face was half-cast in shadow, and that made her definitely uneasy. "The Mars battlefields or the in-space combat units."

She nodded, and being unable to watch the man any longer, cast her eyes about his office. The room she was seated in was hardly the type of office you'd expect of a member of government. It was a small, cramped and poorly lit room, full of filing cabinets and so cluttered that there was only really room for a medium-sized desk and two wobbly, precariously placed chairs. The desk (as well as the floor and the tops of the cabinets) was littered with thousands and thousands of memos, computer printouts and small, holographic trinkets that Winry couldn't work out for the life of her. She didn't dare put her hands anywhere but by her sides, there were a couple of nasty looking stains around her, some which looked like mildew, others, smaller and better hidden, looked like dried blood. The whole office stank.

"Sir," she enquired bravely, "I'd been hoping to get a post on Earth somewhere, so I could look for my missing friend in my spare time."

The man nodded. "Ahh yes, that Edward boy, wasn't he?" He enquired. "It was all over the papers when he went missing. The people working on the Gabriel Project were just _furious_! And then the whole issue of slipping out under the Government's nose of course..."

Winry let her brows draw together in a puzzled frown. There had been no word of Edward's disappearance on any of the papers or news broadcasts that the lower societies could get a hold of, but then, the news system for the upper class was a strange thing. Why would Edward's disappearance get into their papers, but not the ones she read? She rubbed her arms self-consciously. "I..."

"I'm afraid it's out of the question, My Dear." The man said, with a sick, half-hidden smile. "The Angels simply do not come into contact with the Earth enough to merit there being more ground forces then there already is. You will have to choose between Mars and the 'In-between' I hear the troops are calling it..."

Winry's dislike of the man she was corresponding with was growing greater by the minute. The man radiated jolly acceptance of everything, while underneath his smugness and superior air shone through his mask.

She sighed. "Are you sure there's nothing that can be done to get me a post on Earth?" She asked softly, but her hopes were plummeting.

"I'm sorry. There's nothing that can be done." He repeated, not _sounding_ very bloody sorry. Winry glared at her hands bitterly.

"Then I don't really care where I go." She replied. Winry had signed up for the War as soon as she was able, but this having occurred after Edward's strange disappearance, she had struggled to gain a position in the Earth forces to maintain her so-far fruitless search for her best friend. The police had been no help, they were too corrupt to care, and Winry and her grandmother did not have the money required to make them at least pretend. It didn't help that Edward had been poorer than they were to begin with, his home and its computers legacies from earlier times with his parents.

His apartment had been cleared, Winry had all his belongings back home, and refilled with a young, noisy group of tenants who had more than once tried to convince her to come into their apartment for 'a spot of mattress dancing.' They couldn't be less like Edward was.

"I'll sign you up for Mars then." The man said, with a delighted smile. "That's where all the main fighting is."

Winry suddenly felt sick. "Yes sir."

"Good girl. See my secretary on the way out. She will put you forward for further recruitment training."

* * *

"So what's this growth enhancer meant to _do_ exactly?" Edward enquired of Hughes. They had moved into a small, dimly lit room, almost as if the darkness was meant for comfort, rather than fear. It was bare, except for a small mattress-like contraption in the middle of the room, which Hughes had insisted Edward stand upon.

The man blinked for a moment, before sharply exclaiming, "Oh! I keep forgetting! You don't know all these things, do you?" He slapped himself suddenly on the forehead. "Well, the growth enhancer is basically a drug that forces the body to grow at an alarmingly fast rate. I think it's two weeks or so in five minutes."

Edward nodded, with a raised eyebrow. "So why do I have to take it then?"

Hughes frowned thoughtfully. "You don't, really, but it will save you a lot of time. The average growth-span and recovery-span are covered by the dosage that Gracia makes."

"Does it hurt?" Edward asked, more out of curiosity than anything. His sides chose that moment to give a particularly nasty throb and he gasped.

Hughes gave a sympathetic look. "Well, let's put it this way, shall we, Ed my boy. Getting your wings come in is like taking off a rather picky band-aid. You can go slow and steady, and peel it off a portion at a time. Or, you could rip it off, as fast as anything, and not bother with care. Either way, it hurts like HELL."

"Oh. Gee. Thanks." The younger avian replied in a clipped tone.

The older laughed somewhat sheepishly. "I personally think it's better to get it out of the road in one big hit." He said. "Roy did, when he was a child. So did Hawkeye I believe. Neither regretted it, especially now that they've seen people who didn't opt for the treatment."

"Are you traumatising my patient, Maes?" Gracia said on her approach back into the room. "It's really not as bad as he's making out, Dear. And it's completely natural for the growth to happen." She smiled slyly. "We just speed it up a little is all. Hold out your arm please."

Instantly, alarm bells went off in Edward's brain. "Why?" He asked warily.

Gracia Hughes, who had so far only given the impression to Edward that she was a kind, motherly figure with a light sense of humour, held out a small syringe filled with a faintly opaque blue liquid. Edward froze in an instant, the original image trashed by the massive betrayal of trust he was experiencing. She expected him, to sit still, while she jabbed that _thing_ in his arm?

Not a chance in HELL.

"NO!" He cried, snatching his arm back and staggering away from the two avians. "I'll wait the two weeks if it means a needle!"

"Don't be a child, Highness." Gracia said, moving forward with the instrument of doom outstretched in her hand. She didn't seem to understand that what she was holding was a lethal weapon, and there was no way it was going anywhere near Edward. "It's just a small little jab. You won't even feel it." She cooed, as if trying to calm a frightened dog.

"That's just what you want me to think!" Edward yelled at the top of his lungs, scrambling away as far and as fast as he could. However, not looking where he was going, he managed to manoeuvre himself into a corner of the room, and he looked about, terror running through his bloodstream. He whined piteously.

Hughes held him down while Gracia efficiently administered the jab. Then, as one, they led him back to the mattress and stood him upon it, wishing him good luck before taking their exeunt. Edward was suddenly quite alone.

After a long moment, Goosebumps trembled all over his skin, slowly morphing into small pricklings of bearable pain. It trailed down his body in an unusual way, odd, but not too uncomfortable, and pooled just below his arms, over his ribcage and around the small of his back.

Next came a disorienting feeling, not unlike the rippling of water, or the barrage of hard rain, except once again restricted to the three areas. Startled at a strange feeling surrounding his fingers, he looked down. Before his eyes, his nails grew noticeably longer. "Well. That's disturbing."

Almost after Edward had said it, a boiling pain tore through his back and sides. It wrapped around him, dipping sensually through his abdomen, and up until just barely under the start of his prosthetic arm's port. It was nearly unbearable, it felt like liquid lead had been poured over his skin and his blood rushed so fast he could swear the friction would boil it. He fell to his knees, biting his lip to keep from screaming, and tasting blood at the same time.

A second wave of angrier fire drew him to the ground with a grunt.

The flesh around the region affected the most began to feel as if it were bubbling, while a thousand stabbing pains raced over his skin like hot knives ground into his skin unnecessarily. He screwed his eyes shut, and clamped down on the yell threatening to escape his throat. He would not let this beat him.

A roll of peace, a momentary reprieve washed over him, before with a sickening lurch and an even worse crunch, the pain came back, throbbing at his sides and making him gasp for his air. Some part of him told him to roll off his side, and he did so, drawing a shaky breath at the pain it caused to lace through him.

With a disgusting pop, immediately followed by a strange splat, something exploded sharply from his sides, something large and overly heavy. The pungent smell of blood filled the room, the think; congealing liquid coating Edward from head to foot and the vast majority of the room was at least speckled with it. Edward's stomach rolled disagreeably, and he resisted the urge to throw up.

He whimpered.

The heavy lumps were growing, lengthening, and they stretched at his stomach horribly, drawing on reserves he didn't know he had so that they could extend. Sharp pinpricks ran along them, and Edward realised with a groan that they were a part of him, two new limbs and that pain transferred through them as easily as everywhere else. Spikes exploded outwards from the now long and slender shafts, additional spines spinning off them to form into strange, red feathers, coated in fresh blood, the same blood that was rolling in rivulets down Edward's back.

The drug began to heal now, instead of cause excruciating pain, and all of his wounds became almost unbearably itchy. Some of the blood had pooled at the nape of his neck and was slowly seeping into his hair. It would be hell to get out, Edward thought, absolute hell.

He coughed twice at the coppery stench that plagued the room, overly glad that it wasn't bright, as the darkness soothed the headache that was starting to form just behind his temples.

"Alright, Edward?" Hughes' voice called out to him.

"...Ow." He replied weakly, all too choked and hoarse for his liking, moments before he let himself go to a dead faint.

* * *

"We figured he'd be a bit finicky about letting others wash him, so we decided to wait until he wakes up."

"It's been two days. Surely you could have at least semi-cleaned him up. He looks like a dead body or something."

"Well, Gracia says he's still alive at least."

"I know he is. I'm just telling you to get that fucking blood off his wings so that I can see the colouring without having to choke on the stench."

"He's red. As red as his father was before him."

Edward had long since registered the fact he knew the voices arguing above him. He just for the life of him couldn't remember where he knew them from. There were rabbits decidedly stomping on the inside of his skull, and a hazy sensation had wrapped its way around his brain, reminding him almost of being drunk.

"Red? Well, I guess it will suit him." He knew that voice, that smirky bastard-like voice, but he couldn't put his finger on it, and the fuzzy thing he was wrapped in was so very warm...

"You don't sound too pleased."

"It's not the colour I expected. But it'll do."

"Oh stop it with the smug bastard act, Mustang." Mustang. Mustang. He knew that name. It was important somehow... "You were right, I was wrong, and I owe Hawkeye dinner for the next six turns."

"Gracia can't be too thrilled about that."

"Don't be too certain. I owe her foot rubs for the next _five years_."

Edward felt a groan bubble up through his throat, far too raw to be healthy. He slid his eyes slowly open, blinking at the harsh light twice before closing them and scrunching them up tight. After a moment, he attempted the action once more, this time with much better results.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Princess." One of the coloured blobs in his vision said. The voice sounded triumphant as if it was very, very pleased with the situation at hand. Edward made an indistinguishable sound.

His sides felt stretched too far as the blobs in front of him slowly focused to form real people. He felt sticky all over, and his teeth had that fuzzy feel that indicated they needed a good cleaning. He slowly tried to sit up, but an unexpected force held him down. He let out a confused mewl and attempted the feat again with the same result.

"Calm down, highness." Said a woman's soft voice to his right. The words made no sense, but they sounded pretty, so Edward tried to focus on them instead of the two now-distinguishable black haired people hovering over him. "You two, back away from him, give him some room to breathe." There was something soft and matronly in that tone.

The two faces did so, one retreating to his side and suddenly a gentle pressure was lifting him up into a seated position. Two large weights either side of his body wanted to pull him down again, and he mewled, leaning against whatever was holding him up.

"Hey! Princess! Get off me!" And there was the pretty smirking voice again. If only he could make out the words. They sounded kind of awkward. "He's getting dried blood on my clothes."

"Then be grateful it's not wet, Roy." Said the female again. "And don't you dare even think about letting him go. He's gone through a rough period; he doesn't need any further stimuli before he's had at least a little sustenance."

"He's going to kill me when he wakes up. This is all going to be my fault, I just know it."

Oh, now didn't that smell nice? Edward forced himself to look downward, where there was a creamy spoonful of something making its way towards him. He looked up, meeting blue eyes which were warm and bright. "Eat." That was one command, he recognised at least. He slurped up the little liquid that was on the spoon, immediately wanting more and rumbling his impatience. The blue eyes, however, appeared to be taking their time. "Not so fast, Edward, or your body will reject the soup and you'll throw up.' He couldn't make out the words, but the tone was condescending.

With every spoonful the woman gave him, Edward felt himself become more and more alert. He was in a brightly lit, well furbished room with soft, leafy plants aligning the outer walls. There was a small bench next to the hospital-type bed he was in, which had a plate stacked with what looked like meaty pastries gently steaming. The 'fuzzy thing' was a woollen blanket that was now spooled around his legs, and he was leaning...

...On Roy Mustang.

This fact took another moment to register in Edward's brain, and he tried to move angrily before realising that he was pretty much immobile and therefore, helpless.

"When I can move again, you're so dead, Mustang." He growled, knowing that somehow that man had set this whole thing up.

Mustang looked scandalized. "YOU were the one who leaned on ME"

"Yes, but I'm not the thirty year old pervert here, am I?"

"I'll have you know I'm only twenty-nine." Roy snapped back.

Gracia smiled at the two. "When you children are finished?" She commented in a truly reprimanding tone. They both looked up at her mildly guiltily. "Do you want any more soup, Edward?"

"No thanks. I'll get it when I can move again."

Mustang let out a snort of laughter at Edward's predicament. Gracia swatted him sharply over the shoulder. "When you are in my hospital wing," she said, "You follow my rules. And that includes not poking fun at the infirms."

Hughes coughed politely from where he was going unnoticed. "Gracia, I think it's time you let the captain and Edward have a little chat." He said determinedly, taking in Edward's embarrassment at having the woman defend him. "His highness needs a briefing, and he's not going to get it with you hovering over his head." He gently took his wife and led her (reluctantly) from the room.

As soon as the two were gone, Mustang looked at Edward who was still leaning against him. The boy was bright red with a mixture of anger and embarrassment, and, being unable to move, he was stuck.

"So." Mustang said. "Do you believe me now?"

Edward growled at him, bristling. "Yes. Whatever."

_Fucking bastard._ He thought scathingly.

"That wasn't very nice." Reflected Mustang, staring off into space. "I may have a reputation, but I do have legitimate parents."

This caught Edward off guard. "Huh?"

Mustang laughed. "I can read minds, Edward. And I can manipulate heat, and gas concentrations in the air. Create fire, if you will." The man sounded all too smug when he said this. "Though reading minds is much more useful."

"I knew there was a reason why I hated you." Edward bit out, muttering it under the anger he felt running through him.

"What?" Mustang demanded, and then laughed once more. "Why is the fact that I can read minds grounds for hating me?" he asked, absently taking one of Ed's wings between his fingers and separating the feathers.

"It's cheating." Edward said. "You don't have to ask what someone is thinking, or even guess. You can just open up their mind and see for yourself. It's lazy. And not only that, but it implies no one can have their privacy, even in their own head where they think things that they would never say. If someone can read thoughts, what's the point of that?" He glared at Mustang.

The man gave a small, wry grin before replying, "However, you're from the house of Elric, Edward, and therefore your power would be worse than mine. Your red wings have proved your lineage."

"That means what to me?" Edward asked with a sharp edge.

Mustang's eyes flicked heavenward for a moment. He rested a hand on the small of Edward's back, it seemed almost on impulse, and rubbed in smooth circles when Edward tensed. The younger avian allowed himself to slowly relax under those hands, for not once in his whole stay had someone tried to hurt him.

If he had thought back on that, he would have realised how odd it was, how odd his behaviour had been while on this ship. He had, for some reason immediately trusted these creatures, people, whatever they were, without question. That was something he had never done before.

"Because," Mustang said, "Elrics create illusions, they manipulate reality through the brainwaves of others. Sometimes they don't even realise that they are doing it." Edward tried to bristle again at that, but the hands had moved to another part of his back and were gently rubbing out one of the many knotted muscles present. Edward sighed.

_And this isn't manipulation?_ He asked himself.

"No, actually, it's not." Replied Mustang to his thoughts and Edward scowled at him.

"In any case, I haven't used that power and I don't plan to." He continued the conversation, not wanting to linger on the merits of back-rubbing.

"Princess, untrained Elrics use their influence without even realising it. The illusions they create are directly implanted into the minds of others. While it does take training for these illusions to become completely effective, the ability to manipulate is something they exhibit from early childhood onwards. Reading minds is far better than controlling them, wouldn't you agree?"

Edward suddenly felt a sickening lurch. What if, what if he'd controlled people all his life? He distinctly remembered incidents, mostly when he was very young and particularly selfish where he'd gotten his own way no questions asked. And What if he'd manipulated Winry? What if she'd realised and hated him, but couldn't say anything because he'd still been manipulating her? He tensed immediately, panic flowing through his veins as he wondered if each and every person he'd ever come into contact with...

"Calm down, Edward." Mustang ordered. He obeyed without question. "Look, you may have manipulated people in the past, but that was only due to your lack of training, and the effects wouldn't be to the grand scale that you are thinking. They would be more of a nudge in the direction you wanted, not overall manipulation."

"Stop fucking reading my mind." Edward bit out through gritted teeth.

Mustang shrugged.

They were silent for a moment. Mustang's hands moved away from his back and back to his wing where they started stretching and compressing the muscles gently. The uncomfortable physical-ness of the situation was outweighed by how highly _skilful_ Mustang's hands were.

The man shifted slightly for better access. "I heard you didn't scream during the growth of these." He said, indicating Edward's wings with a small incline of his head. There was a degree of respect in his voice that caught Edward off guard.

He nodded, once he had recovered from the brief shock. "Well, back about two years ago," he said, unsure why he was speaking, but talking all the same, "There was an accident. I lost my arm and a little girl nearly lost her life. This was before Ana and Nick were DIGITised, and they were there beside me while I was getting my prosthetic arm, telling me it was okay to scream when the pain got too much. I knew that they wouldn't think I was weak if I called out, but I still couldn't. Every time the pain got enough for me to want to, I would think of that little girl, sitting in a hospital bed in great pain and dying. Some part of me kept telling me she was in more pain than I was, and that to cry out would be an insult to her. We both survived in the end, but she had to give up her humanity and become a dog-human hybrid. I've never really forgiven myself for being unable to help her more."

He looked down at his hands, and realised they'd clenched into fists. With an effort, he loosened them, his limbs still not truly willing to agree with him.

"Princess and beggarman." Mustang said as if talking to himself.

"What?" Enquired Edward.

"Princess and Beggarman." He repeated, a soft and sad look in his eyes. "When I was given the serum, I cried out, I couldn't stop. It was the most painful experience I'd ever had." He smirked weakly. "Being raised in a high class, I'd always been a privileged child. I had everything I always wanted. I never knew what it was like to be poor, or in pain, or separated from those I cared about. In fact, the day that I saw you for the first time, my greatest concern was how to bluff my way through a report on the fairytale Princess and Beggarman."

Edward gave him a puzzled look.

Mustang laughed. "I'm just surprised. You're meant to be the most noble and privileged of all Avians, yet our lives, in comparison were very different. You were raised in the poorer ends of a human society, and you've had so many hardships but you've never let yourself be considered the victim."

Edward grinned. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Mustang. I wasn't the victim. So many people in that society had it worse than I did."

Mustang laughed. "You're a very hard person to read, Edward Elric. Even with the power of Telepathy."

Edward went rigid for a moment, loosing what little mobility he had regained. "Elric? My last name's Elric?"

Mustang looked up, brows crinkling. "Yes. Edward of the house of Elric. Weren't you listening?"

Listening was the furthest thing from a shocked Edward's mind. _I have a last name._ He thought, overwhelmed.

_I belong._

_

* * *

_

_.

* * *

_

_A/n: -dead, just dead-_

_Ed Muse: -prods with stick- Hrmn. 12 pages. You wouldn't think something that pithy would kill her. _

_-revives- Shut up, short ass._

_Ed muse: WHOAREYOUCALLINGA... Wait, you're the same height as me._

_Yeah. I know. Anyways, -shakes her little review can- Feed a hungry Authoress while she puts Edward back in his box?_


	9. Dawning of realisations

Edward was learning how to fly.

It wasn't going well.

"Flap, you bastard, FLAP." The fierce cry in the small grassy clearing area of the avian battle-cruiser had surprisingly come from a rather petit woman. Her black hair was braided into a series of ropes that looped about her head and were tied with what looked like an elastic band. Her eyes were black, and her skin, like that of the majority of avians was a pale milky cream and baby-smooth. Alphonse watched on, as Izumi Curtis scolded the prince for the third time in five minutes.

"In case you haven't realised," replied the prince with exaggerated patience, red wings bristling behind him with simple instinct, "I'm TRYING."

After Edward's recuperation from having his wings grow in, he had immediately been presented in an intricate and delicate ceremony to the populace of the cruiser. Those in the other ships scattered about mars' orbit had watched via satellite relay as a rather disgruntled looking prince had been crowned, while looking like he really didn't want to be there in the slightest. Less than a day later, Alphonse had found Edward and his own adopted mother, Izumi, swearing at each other in a full-blown argument over all the reasons why Edward didn't want to learn to fly.

Izumi had won. She had a way with words that not even Roy Mustang could match. And a powerful right-hook. The lessons had started and now, three days later, Edward knew how to fold his wings perfectly.

A resounding crack echoed through the clearing, emanating from the small woman hitting Edward over the head with enough force to give a long term injury. Al winced empathically. He had been on the receiving end of that blow more than once.

"What the FUCK was that for?" The prince demanded angrily, and received a further hit over the head. Edward staggered.

'Watch your fucking language." Replied Izumi, with the tone of being unaware of anything ironic. "Now flap your fucking wings."

Edward glared and mumbled something that Alphonse couldn't make out, seated as he was in one of the high tree branches at the edge of the clearing. However, it seemed to annoy Edward's new teacher as once again her hand found its mark on the back of his head.

"Then do as I say, Edward, not as I do." Said Izumi firmly. "I thought a bright boy like you would have been able to figure that out." Her tone spoke of no nonsense, and wisely, Edward chose not to dispute it.

Alphonse knew that Izumi was a force to be reckoned with. Strong, fast and deadly, with seemingly no special abilities of her own, there was no one more knowledgeable on, or better at teaching the individual talents possessed by the upper houses. While more handsome than beautiful, she had an air that commanded the respect of even the strongest man, most of whom she could beat in an instant with simple physical prowess. Her pale blue wings were built for speed, elongated and fine, and they seemed slightly odd for her stocky frame and darker features.

She had taken Al in after his mother died in childbirth. Apparently she'd lost a child of her own only turns before.

Edward growled at the woman unfeelingly. Al could tell that the prince had already developed a great deal of respect for her in the short time that she had been teaching him. Indeed, it was because of her that his wings no longer dragged foolishly along the ground behind him, but folded neatly at his sides. Also, he had mastered a small amount of the concealment and illusion that was such a specialty to the Elric house.

Alphonse remembered once asking Izumi why he had been able to preform illusionary techniques when he wasn't an Elric. While smiling brightly at him, Izumi had informed him that not every Elric in fact _remained_ an Elric, there were many people who married into other houses, intermarriage and strange abilities in other houses were becoming more and more commonplace. Alphonse had a sleeping ability from an earlier generation.

But here, seeing a true Elric, one who was royal born learning in days what took Alphonse weeks to learn taught him a new respect for the true descendants of the Elric house.

"Stop thinking about flapping and just DO it." Izumi demanded, in a tone of frustration, and inadvertently breaking Al out of his thoughts.

"What. The. Hell. Does. That. Mean?" Edward bit out angrily, quite obviously thinking that Izumi was doing everything in her power to annoy him.

The woman sighed and cast her eyes towards the ceiling of the ship for a moment, whispering in the original avian dialect "_Grant me patience._" Before turning back to Edward and reverting to a language that the prince would understand. "Do you think about moving your arms or legs when you want to move them?" Her tone was one of addressing the mentally disabled or very young.

"I guess not." Mumbled Edward, obviously unsure of whether he should be insulted or sheepish.

"Then don't think, you idiot boy! Just flap!"

Edward glared icicles at her, his body language basically screaming 'if it were that easy...!' However, the prince, not to be beaten by the woman, closed his eyes and tried.

Once again, he received a fist over the head. "You're still thinking." Izumi informed him with authority.

Edward scowled darkly and Alphonse bit back the giggle that threatened to betray him.

Then, suddenly, as if on a cue to prove Izumi right, Red wings swept up and outwards, before rushing forwards with a great displacement of air. "Hey! Look! I did it! I did it! I flapped!" Edward shouted, suddenly sounding youthful and energetic. Half surprised and half elated, he turned to Izumi, expecting praise.

"Good." The woman said. "Now do it again."

Edward's scowl returned.

* * *

"Well done, Edward." Said Izumi as they sat in the mess hall for dinner that night. It was rare praise for the woman. "With luck, you'll have mastered flight by the end of the week."

Edward couldn't quite fight back the smug glow he felt at that announcement and therefore, didn't try. He grinned at her, before digging in wholeheartedly to the food in front of him. The woman laughed almost fondly, and Al repressed a small smile. Edward rolled his eyes. "Comedians." He paused to mutter at them.

At this Al laughed outright and even Seig, Izumi's burly and rarely spoken husband gave an appreciative guffaw. "You must admit though, Ed,' said Alphonse cheekily, "You're hardly royal material with your dismal eating habits." He took a slender bite of his own dinner. Edward rolled his eyes and kicked him lightly under the table. He had taken to eating with this family, due to the easy acceptance he received, it was convenient, and he had discovered that Izumi, who prepared all her own food, was actually a very good cook.

"Don't eat so fast, Edward." Admonished Izumi. "You'll get indigestion." Edward smiled at her with a mischievous gleam in his eyes and swallowed the large portion of vegetable in his mouth. Izumi shook her head wryly.

"Hey," Asked Edward after awhile. "I have a question."

The table turned their attentions to him.

"Why is it that I instantly trust everyone on this ship, even though by all rights I shouldn't? Is it just another one of the strange powers, or have I finally lost it?"

Al gave a small snort, and Izumi shot him a warning glance. Alphonse ignored it with the grace of a teenager. "It's because you're an Avian, Prince." He said. "Though really, you're still _learning _to be one, and learning very slowly." He grinned, and was hit over the head with Izumi's well placed wing. "Oww! Teaaaacher..."

"Alphonse Curtis, be serious." She snapped at him. She turned to Edward who was trying to school his features out of a smile. "It is simply because you, Edward, like every other avian here value honesty above every other value. And as you have seen that in this society, you are inclined to instantly trust. However, it's curious that you don't trust the one person on this ship incapable of lying."

Edward's brows crinkled into a small frown. "Who's that?"

Izumi sighed. "Roy Mustang, Edward. Who else?"

Edward tried to inhale in the wrong direction. After a few minutes of choking, he demanded, "What?"

"Mustangs, as a... 'punishment' I guess you could say, for reading minds, are unable to lie to...Edward?"

For Edward had stood up, and was hastily wiping his face down with a napkin. He had just remembered something Mustang had told him in their first ever meeting. "Excuse me." He said in a choked voice.

"Are you alright, Ed?" Alphonse asked, laying a hand on Edward's arm. The avian in question shot him a startled look, just like one a caged animal would give.

"Fine, just fine." He replied, the gaze of the whole table fixed upon him. "I'll be right back."

_Mustang can't lie, huh? I'll see about that._

* * *

"Mustang."

The man seated at the oaken desk looked up patiently as Edward Elric appeared in the door of his office. The avian was bristling with anger, seemingly aimed at Roy.

"Princess, if you are here to remind me that Dinner is being served in the mess hall," Roy replied, turning back to the paperwork he was pursuing, pushing his reading glasses back up to the bridge of his nose, "I am already aware of the fact." Mustang didn't have to wear the glasses, except to read encoded information basically illegible without them.

"Is it true you can't lie?" Asked Princess. Mustang quirked a sardonic brow.

"Quite." He replied in an airy tone, unconcerned as to where Edward had received this information. He was quickly figuring out the direction this would take, and wondering which one of his frequent hints had lead Princess to the realisation he was now making. The one underlying the anger in those feminine features. He smirked at his own thoughts. "However," He said, "There are a great many truths in this world, Edward, and it is a simple matter of choosing the right one for the right situation. Therefore, while physically unable to lie, I can tell an untruth."

Mustang could feel Edward's scowl, even as he chose to ignore it, focusing instead on the coded information in front of him. The short man habiting his doorway scowled harder. "The trick," Mustang continued, feigning obliviousness to the audible grinding Edward was making with his teeth. "Is to ask the right questions of one so that the truth and answer you desire, you can obtain." The avian inflated slightly with rage. Roy looked up briefly to flash a smirk at the prince, knowing it would infuriate him further. He once again slid his gasses up his nose, making a mental note to get them adjusted some time soon.

Edward glared at him, stalking forward and placing his hands on the edge of the desk menacingly. Mustang was completely unrelenting in his ignorance of the prince's behaviour, instead choosing to place one file to the side and pick up another. "Fine." The young man said, poison dripping off his words. "What is Alphonse's _real_ last name?"

Roy allowed himself a small, true smile, wiping it off his face before Edward had a chance to see. He sat back in his chair, folding his glasses and placing them on the desk. Edward's wings were flexing in anger, and he looked like a thundercloud. Roy gave a small snort. "Curtis." He announced.

Edward visibly deflated before him, his eyes flashing through confusion, betrayal, sadness, failure, before he finally realised what Mustang had just told him and they became hopeful once more. Roy deliberately kept his face smooth, and resisted to tap into that thought trail Edward was pursuing. "Ask the right question, huh?" Princess said.

Against his will, the avian with black wings felt his eyebrow rise patiently.

Edward fixed him with a glare. "Captain Roy Mustang." He said in the most condescending tone he could muster. "What then, was Alphonse Curtis's house of birth?"

Mustang allowed his lips to quirk upwards in a smirk, pinning Edward deliberately with a look that would have melted the heart of any woman. "Well, then, Princess." He mimicked. "Isn't that _just_ the right question."

* * *

.

* * *

_A/n: -singsong- Mustang is a baaaaastard. Mustang is a Baaaaastard._

_But I love him anyways. _

_Due to the fact that that chapter HAD to end there, and that the other scene I wanted in the chapter just wouldn't agree with me(I scrapped it. It was meant to be a coronation ceremony thing.), I thought I'd give you a preview of one of the scenes next chapter. So, here goes._

"Do you think," Mustang snapped, eyes ablaze with a fury that Edward had never seen before, "That I want to be unable to lie? Do you think that this dance of manipulation is fun, Edward Elric, Highness, whatever the hell you want to be called? I have to be on my toes, finding truths to dance with, manipulate those apes down there on that planet with. It would be easier to lie and get it over and done with."

Edward backed away slightly, recoiling in a tiny amount of fear. "...No, but..."

The captain growled, his obsidian eyes glittering. "You can only get one thing with sacrificing another, Princess. You gained a place where you belonged by sacrificing a family. Do you even think about the rabbits anymore, as busy as you are with your _duties?_ Have you thought about that Winry girl you were so convinced set you up ever since you arrived on this ship?"

"I..." Edward gasped, cowering.

"No, you haven't. You think you can just burn your bridges behind you, don't you, forget what has happened to date with your life. It's because I couldn't forget that you are even _here_ Edward. Because I didn't give up on what everyone else thought was a fable. You're an incredibly selfish person, Highness." Mustang gasped, seeming to come to his senses once more. "Leave. I have a battle to plan."

Released, Edward fled.

_A/n: I hope you'll look forward to it! (Though I'll probably have edited it before then)_

_Leave a review for a hungry authoress?_

_EDIT!_

_I thought I might as well answer a couple of questions while I'm here._

_Q: Is this a slash fic?_

_A: YES. It is. It will be RoEd, HOWEVER only a small little bit, right at the very end. _

_Q: Can you update faster?_

_A: I try as hard as I can to get updates out as fast as possible. However, I am a student with a job currently on the line, and I'm working my bum off to keep that, also, I have many pressures put on me due to school. (Though I do sometimes give up my study periods, for my goal is to have the next chapter out within a month at the latest.)_

_Q: how long will this fic be?_

_A: Oh... So far the plan says 25 chapters. There are three definitive parts to this fic, and NEXT chapter is the end of part one._

_Q: Sequel?_

_A: I haven't even finished the fic yet! But yes. Sequel. It is already planned as well. _

_Q; Homunculus?_

_A: Sequel._

_Q: Was that fruit name really just future spelt backwards or was it just me?_

_A: It was Future spelt backwards, yes. Well done. There are also many other little interesting things in this fic to look out for, tidbits I've thrown in here and there. As a Lit student, I know the value of in-fic symbols and have tried to put a couple in._

_Q: What happens next?_

_A: You'll just have to wait and see._


	10. Choices still unmade

Captain Roy Mustang, head of the Avian Fleet, twenty-nine years old and shamefully attractive dared to do something no man has ever done before and survived to tell the tale. He allowed his eyes to trail unabashedly up and down Edward Elric's body, taking in the boy's firm stature and lean build, ghosting over his pale skin and landing finally on those golden eyes which reminded him slightly of honey, if honey could sparkle from within. The boy was a picture of anger at Mustang's forwardness, bristling and not noticing his wings flaring from reflex.

Edward growled. "Alright, Mustang? What were the last eight words I said?"

Mustang smirked. "What were the last eight words I said."

It took Edward a moment to realise that it was an answer, not a question, and he frowned. "Before that." He snapped, leaning forward.

Roy smiled. "Fish, Chips and seventeen different types of cheese." He answered. "Come now, Edward, While as... avid as your guess might be, I'm not actually made of that. Nor of pineapples (whatever they are), nor of bovine leavings."

The boy, caught off guard for a moment, simply stared. Then he seemed to relocate himself. "Would it kill you to look like you're paying attention?" He demanded. "You leave me with inklings of information, and now, when I actually try and confirm what I THINK might be true, you bait me, lead me around by the nose and don't give me a straight answer!" If looks could kill, Roy would probably be ashes by now under the glare Princess was giving him.

"I have to keep myself amused _some_how." He replied to the avian teen. "The ship is rather boring once you know the whole thing."

"And now you're making fucking wisecracks and still looking at me like I'm some kind of deli special!"

"You're not adverse to it?" The black haired man replied in even tones, once again duelling with death for the sake of five minutes amusement in the form of Edward Elric flailing.

He was not disappointed as the boy did indeed flail, splutter and cough, and it cost Mustang most of his resolve to keep from laughing. 'OF COURSE IM FUCKING ADVERSE TO IT!" The prince screamed, arms windmilling dangerously, feathers bristling, and hair flapping in a way that didn't seem physically possible. Mustang reflected briefly that people down the other end of the ship would have most likely heard that cry. He coughed quickly to cover a snicker as Edward inflated dangerously in front of him.

Mustang bit his lip to prevent his amusement from showing. "Because, you know, there are many women on this ship who would love to have my company ravished on them as such."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Edward Elric yelled and tried to leap the desk, sending paperwork and blueprints flying, all coupled with a yell of "WHO ARE YOU CALLING A LITTLE GIRL WHO PLAYS ONLY WITH DOLLS!"

Though slightly alarmed, Roy was still far too amused to care as his office was destroyed by a tornado wearing black and with red wings. "Edward." He said with a chortle he couldn't quite contain. "I do believe you came in here to ask me a question. Killing me would do no good to your cause as I, as the captain of this ship, am the only one aboard this ship with the intelligence you require."

This had an instant calming effect and Edward sat down stubbornly, arms folded, legs crossed and golden eyes glaring. "What is the house of Alphonse Elric's birth, you shithead?" He asked with a glare, remembering the sole reason why he was here in the first place.

With a casual flick of his hair, Roy mustang sighed and replied, "It is Elric, Princess. As I'm sure you've worked out. He is, your brother."

This caused the diverse teen in front of him to fall silent, his moods playing across his face with such accuracy that Mustang didn't even have to read his mind to know what was going through that head of his. Shock, apprehension, wonder, fear, a strange sense of knowing, anger, love, joy, confusion, all played out like a symphony on the bronzed features of the prince. "Why doesn't he know?" Was the question Edward seemed to decide upon within his shock.

"Because he doesn't need to." Roy replied evenly. He was playing coy, and he knew Edward knew it. It was only a matter of time before the boy asked his next question. He seemed to be turning white-blue. "I would breathe, Princess. You don't want to asphyxiate and make my struggle to find you all for nothing, do you?"

Edward growled, but it was weak and had no feeling. He was starting to shake. "Why doesn't he know? Why couldn't you have told me?" He muttered before rolling off on a tangent of incoherent mumblings.

Roy felt his resolve softening. He was being cruel and he knew it. "Because I knew you would react this way." He said; standing and moving around the desk to place a comforting hand on the teen's shoulder. Edward leaned into it, which made Roy's eyebrow rise. "It was also a protective measure installed by the previous captain based on the last wish of your mother. She died just after giving birth to Alphonse. He was a breach birth. A woman like that, to go through having to leave her husband, having one of her children stolen, and then to meet her death so calmly. Your mother was so incredibly selfless. Her last words were to make me promise that no child of hers would be an infant king."

Edward looked up. "You knew my mother?"

Roy nodded at the teen, the pangs the memory brought quickly disregarded. "She was a beautiful woman." He said it in the tone of finality. He would not say any more on the matter today. "In any case, after her death, Alphonse was placed into the care of a boy barely fourteen and a half. It was the same boy who had looked after his brother and who had accidentally caused that brother to be taken by the humans. The boy, unable to face the guilt of looking after the brother of the child he lost gave Alphonse to Izumi and Seig Curtis in light of their recent stillbirth." He closed his eyes, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles over Edward's shoulder. He wasn't sure if it was for the boy or for himself.

Edward's hand graced his own in something almost warning, so he pulled back, opening his eyes to see that wide eyed face. "You asked." He said.

Edward nodded. "I did." He acknowledged. "What happened to the boy?"

"He grew up. He fought in a war that never should have happened and watched many companions and friends die. He never stopped searching for a baby that should not have been lost. He researched, manipulated and nearly killed himself from malnutrition while looking, and more than half a lifetime later, he found his prize."

Those expressive golden eyes widened a fraction. "You..."

Roy laughed shakily. Let it never be said that the Prince was not a smart one. "Because the boy knew that the first time he met the baby that they were connected some way. He didn't understand it then, and he probably still doesn't now. He knew that there was something special about that child, and that there was some purpose in him being born."

Edward was at a loss for words. "...Thank you."

"No." Said Mustang. "I was only doing something that needed to be done."

Unbidden, memories of words floated through Roy's thoughts of one of his conversations with his best friend over a dimly lit monitor screen around midnight years ago. _"Hughes. As mad as this sounds, I think I have found my Only."_

"And now, what does the boy think the baby should do?" Asked Edward, as Roy shook the words away. "After all, he doesn't want to be obsolete."

Mustang smiled at the boy's attempt at humour. "You could win a war." He said softly.

* * *

Mustang's innocent comment had started quite the row in his office and it was much later when Edward had only just noticed Hawkeye coming in with a round of paperwork for the captain (the pile was nearly taller than her head, so Edward had recognised her by the flash of blue uniform he had never seen her out of.) that mustang had started to really yell.

The argument had started when Mustang had questioned what side of the battle Edward was really on. Edward had retorted that as a person who had lived most of their life as a human, it would be hard to betray them. Mustang had snapped that Edward should just fight for his people and get it over with and from there it had descended into the realm of a screaming match.

"As an avian PRINCE it is you goddamn DUTY to fight in the war." The man bit out now, a crinkling in his brow breaking his otherwise rocklike pose and his smouldering black eyes demonstrating how angry he truly was. Lisa had hurried out of the room after one look at her commander.

"And as someone who knows I've been living as a human for the past fifteen fucking years you should give me some leeway!" Edward demanded back, trying hard to control the frustrated scream building up inside his chest. It was like talking to a brick wall and three times less productive. The man simply wouldn't back down from his morals.

"You don't get it Edward. It's not a matter of choice, of picking and choosing which aspects of our culture you took up when you became one of us. It's all or nothing." He said.

Edward glowered. "You're telling me you want me to fight humans, my friends and the people who I've considered family just because I have wings now? You're telling me to give up the humanity I've relied on for fifteen years and just become something that I was but am not now? _You_ don't get it Mustang; _you're the one who doesn't understand._ Even though I know I'm not, I still see myself as a human. Fifteen years is hard to overcome."

"And you've had three months to overcome it already!" The man growled angrily. "It's all about you, isn't it, Edward? Do you really think that the war would be better or worse for anyone else on this ship? How do you think Hughes feels coming home to his family after every battle, knowing he has killed and has had blood on his hands of people who have had a family of their own? How do you think poor Alphonse feels, when he hates blood, but his illusions on the battlefield produce most of it, and off field he trains desperately to be a surgeon so he can absolve for the lives he's taken/ how do you think Lisa feels when she goes out there to protect everyone and comes back with yet more paperwork to force me to fill out?"

Edward deflated, his anger overtaken by Mustang's rage.

"And how do you think I feel at the end of the day knowing that I was the one who sent them out there to do it? That I ordered them to kill and to do the best job of it they could? And then, there's me at the end of the day, unable to lie and say that everything's going to be alright, because Edward, it's not. It's never going to be alright, because there are broken families out there, broken people who never want to see the light of day again. Because that's what war is, Edward. It's all one big loss."

Edward glared. "Then why don't you do your dancing around the truth act and convince the humans to stop fighting."

Mustang gave a small snort. "Do you think," he snapped; eyes ablaze with a fury that Edward had never seen before, "That I want to be unable to lie? Do you think that this dance of manipulation is fun, Edward Elric, Highness, whatever the hell you want to be called? I have to be on my toes, finding truths to dance with, manipulate those apes down there on that planet with. It would be easier to lie and get it over and done with."

Edward backed away slightly, recoiling in a tiny amount of fear. "...No, but..."

The captain growled, his obsidian eyes glittering. "You can only get one thing with sacrificing another, Princess. You gained a place where you belonged by sacrificing a family. Do you even think about the rabbits anymore, as busy as you are with your duties? Have you thought about that Winry girl you were so convinced set you up ever since you arrived on this ship?"

"I..." Edward gasped, cowering.

"No, you haven't. You think you can just burn your bridges behind you, don't you, forget what has happened to date with your life. It's because I couldn't forget that you are even here Edward. Because I didn't give up on what everyone else thought was a fable. You're an incredibly selfish person, Highness." Mustang gasped, seeming to come to his senses once more. "Leave. I have a battle to plan. Whether you're a part of it or not."

Released, Edward fled.

* * *

He sat in his room in the dark some time later.

_Mustang's right. I don't deserve to be the prince of these people._

_I can't even fight in one battle for them._

_I can't face up to the fact I'm not a human anymore. But I have to, don't I? The wings proved it._

_I grew up in a lie. Now I have the truth, I suppose. Heh. Mustang. He can't lie, but that doesn't necessarily mean he'll tell the truth._

A baby screamed in the darkness, an open-mouthed cry against Edward's closed eyelids. Sharp, cutting voices hissed in the darkness, the words staccato and quick in a language Edward couldn't even begin to understand only two words over all, a warning cry of "Roy Mustang" and then more of the gibberish.

He heard the man's voice, younger than it had been today, and almost frightened. It seemed strange to consider that that man could be afraid of anything. It was once again the strange language, and Edward realised that they must have been talking in the original avian dialect.

A whoosh of air indicated a door had opened somewhere and what sounded like a muffled curse, no it _was_ a curse, Edward was sure, rang out through the insanely cacophonous room. The baby was still screaming its head off, gunfire now invading the scene along with the terrified screams and anguished death gurgles of those fighting. There seemed to be only a room between the fighting and where the baby was, the screams of the child increasing in pitch as the war grew closer and closer and death yells became more and more frequent.

A warm voice spoke to the child, a motherly voice, and the baby calmed. Edward had never felt more confused in his life. If he could just understand what was being said...

And then the gunfire grew closer and the baby's wails started again as a moment of hushed and disjointed language filled the room. A single shot rang out, and a loud 'thunk.' And then footfalls were taking the child's wails out of the room, and a voice spoke in broken English, "hush, little angel, I'll take care of you."

Edward Elric awoke with a start.

* * *

There comes a point in every existence where an important, life-changing decision must be made. Edward, lying on a futon-like mat in a lightly furbished room somewhere in the bowels of a ship two miles long was making one such decision. It was one he thought he had already made three months ago before he'd been requested to fight in a war he never wanted to be part of in the first place. It was when the text based message, short and sharp, demanding he come to a war meeting, came that he realised he hadn't made the choice yet, and that he better make it soon before more people were killed through his lack of judgement.

Pounding out behind him was an erratic song with no real beat. The melodies of the instruments were intertwined so cleverly that what should have been a hideous mix of sound became something highly pleasant to listen to. It was human music, and his favourite song. It always had been even when he was young.

Edward sighed, bending to the comfort of the music. All his life he had lived as a human and done human things. However, the last three months, he had found out quite quickly that he wasn't human and there was a whole new world awaiting him if he could just grasp it. He had 'become' an avian, but that wasn't quite right, either, because an avian was something he always had been, but had never realised it.

"Existence is a state of mind, not of being." He quoted a timeless saying that someone had told him once. He had thought of himself as a human for fifteen years. Didn't that classify him as one? Or did the wings that graced his sides and spread out magnificently either side of him make that all a lie? He had a brother here, real family.

But back ho... on Earth, didn't he have a sister? What else was Winry? But he supposed she would hate him now for what he had become. The wings symbolised everything she hated and wanted to get revenge upon.

There really was no going back now, Edward supposed. Not now that he had tasted flight, and had a blood brother to share the experience with. Not now that he had found a culture that accepted him for what he was and didn't ask questions or send him strange looks when he mentioned wanting to see a mountain, even if only in the distance. He didn't have to put up with Paul Psychologist-who-got-his-degree-from-a-Weeties-box Duncan stealing his money three times a week for however many weeks. Winry would be better off thinking him dead, he supposed, that way she could get her revenge and not feel guilty about betraying her friend.

Sure, Edward would be burning a bridge and severing all connections with his home of fifteen years, but he had a new home now, and like Mustang said, a duty.

Something slid on his chest, and he reached for it, holding it up to the light. It was his flamel necklace, the one he'd had ever since he was a child and he watched it dangling between his fingers, the ruby eyes of the snake glinting in the light. The same flamel symbol in nearly the same design sat in the centre of a crown he had worn for his introduction to the masses and hadn't even touched since. It sat on a cabinet to one side of the room, next to a walk in closet that contained both the clothes he had been given by the tailors of the ship and the ones he had from Earth.

He put on the crown now, the metal cool against his forehead, comforting against the throbbing headache that was starting to form there. It was more a tiara than a crown, he supposed, a band that wrapped around his forehead, with a ruby drop that rapped against his nose bridge whenever he moved in the slightest. He attacked his hair with the loose handled brush he'd brought with him, pulling it up into a high tail that fell to about his upper middle back.

He turned off the music.

He shrugged off the clothes he had been wearing and peered into the closet at the ones the avian tailors had made. All the shirts he had brought with him had holes ripped up their sides to accommodate his two new appendages while the avian ones were designed to do that, and even used this as part of their flair. He pulled one of the simple black tank tops over his head, thankful that they had remembered he was a teenager and had no need for regal outfits. Following this was a jacket with a silver clasp and white lining.

After much debate, he threw the black slacks the tailors had made to one side, shucking on instead his favourite pair of leather pants and a large brown belt with a military style buckle. He was about to turn away from the closet when something caught his eye. Something red.

"Hello." He said as he pulled the red garment out. "I like the look of you." It was a cloak; there was no other word for it, made of a soft, light and warm material with a hood attached to the back, and a much simpler design of the symbol of completion on the back. He put it on cautiously, and as if by a miracle, it hung off his shoulders just the right way. "I really like you." he told his new favourite piece of clothing. Smirking to himself, he went off in search of Mustang.

The man was right, after all.

* * *

Mustang rested his hands on the desk in front of him, trying to hide his frustration. He looked about the room at the delegates gathered. Hughes was going through a photo album with Cain, who just looked like he wanted to get away. Jean havoc, a two-toned blonde with a long face and bright blue eyes was attempting to balance a pencil on the end of his nose, while a redhead (Breda) cheered him on and an aging man stood at attention and made 'tutting' noises. He could always trust Falman to be the smart one in these situations, he supposed.

Lisa frowned at him from by the door. "I don't think he's coming, Sir." She said. 'He's fifteen minutes late."

Mustang nodded. "Well, we'll have to start the meeting in any case."

At this everyone snapped to attention and Roy felt a flash of pride for the people under his command. He nodded as Lisa took her seat. "In that case, declare the floor..."

"Sorry I'm late." Said a voice from the entrance. All heads turned and there was Princess, leaning against the doorframe and looking positively smug. Roy rolled his eyes. The teen had sure cut it fine. "I had some issues I needed to think out." Princess said with a significant look in Roy's direction.

He nodded in return. "And what was your decision?" he asked with just a touch of curiosity.

Edward gave a fierce grin, sitting down at the last empty chair on the table, wings folded neatly at his sides and golden eyes burning. "I will fight for my people." He said.

Roy held back his giddy laugh with some difficulty.

* * *

**End Part One.**

* * *

_A/n: And there you have it, the close of the first part of this fic. Still two left, and the action definitely picks up from this point in. Thanks for sitting patient through the overload of dialogue!_

_Next part we will actually see some of the war. -shockhorrorgasp!- Yes, I haven't forgot that there is one meant to be going on. But still._

_ Thanks once again for such an amazing response to this fiction. You guys are awesome._

_Also, guys, check me out on LiveJournal, I'm HakuNeko. I'm just getting used to that place, so don't mind me if my stuff looks horrible at the moment, I'm getting better. -/selfpimpage-_

_Leave a review for a hungry Authoress? -shakes her little, slightly beaten up can- _


	11. First Mission

With the gentle "fwump" of fabric rustling, Edward landed heavily just outside the Human military complex. Double checking the cloaking illusions he was maintaining he stood, the red folds of his cloak billowing in the evening breeze. He tugged gently at a messenger bag strap that was pulling too tight about his shoulder and sighed.

"Mission Start." He whispered to a microphone just below his throat. His earpiece buzzed in response.

"Don't do anything stupid." Came Hughes' ever helpful commentary. "Keep your cloak up, and be careful."

Edward felt his eyes roll. "Of course, _Father._" He said, voice laden with sarcasm.

Edward smirked as he heard Hughes' patient cough at the other end of the feed. "Okay highness, don't screw up. This is your first mission and if you get killed, I'll never hear the end of it." Ed Hoisted his bag up once more, and winced when if banged into his wing.

"Got it. First tower's about five metres away. Doesn't look too heavily guarded."

"Still." Said Hughes. "Don't fly in. They have ground to air weaponry that isn't fooled by illusions."

"The bastards." Grinned Edward and he started a stealthy approach towards the guards, holding the hem of his cloak to prevent it from rustling. He focused on the humans at the base of the tower, convincing their minds and senses that he wasn't there. There was a tense moment as one of the creatures looked right at him, and he briefly panicked that he might have missed one, but the moment passed and the guard took a sip from a mug, looking away.

Edward let you a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He darted forward, taking care to keep to the shadows. Never mind his cloaking, it was better to be safe than sorry. "Okay, Ed." Hughes' voice echoed behind his ear. "The power box should be on the right side of the tower... err, the east side, sorry." Edward let out a snort of disdain and checked his compass. Hughes was a bit scatterbrained at times.

"Are you sure it's the East side, Hughes? Because I'm on the west and I can see what looks suspiciously like a power source." A human looked over and Edward froze. Eventually the man looked away with a shrug, and muttered something to another one. The second shrugged as well, and said something back. They were too far away to make out the words.

"Well done, wise-ass, you've seen the dummy box." Edward nearly laughed at the sardonic tone. "Now quit trying to insult your superiors and actually do some work for once."

With an amused smirk, Edward switched the communicator off and approached the large, steel watchtower that served as a power outlet. It was painted a dull red to blend in with the landscape, Mars' red, rocky surface, and it was in perfect seeing distance of Mount Olympus in the background.

Edward could have laughed when he saw the outline of the mountain, the irony of the situation nearly killing him. He approached the turret silently.

It was nearly midnight and the building was poorly lit, however, badly painted sections of the steel menace could be made out by the way of the floodlights scattered about and There was little to no cloud cover (having water on the planet was a result of the human's partly successful attempts to colonise the red mass. They had yet to work out how to grow trees, and Edward doubted they cared. A stable atmosphere had been the second thing for the Humans to place on the planet, with the Atmos bugs purifying the carbon-dioxide of the planet into something breathable). Edward crossed the last few metres to the base of the tower confidently; hoping that his illusion was holding up as well as he thought it was. Circling around to the eastern side of the metal monstrosity, he began to search for two key cables that would alert him to the location of the underground generator. He rolled his tongue around his teeth briefly, shuddering at the slightly dusty taste that he had come to associate with the red planet's surface.

_Bingo._ He spotted the leads that ran towards the generator and checking he was out of sight, he approached them, cautiously switching his communicator on. A pressure surfaced behind his eyes, Mustang was tapping into his mind and reading his vision.

"Roy says that the wires are protected." Said Hughes.

Edward glared. "Tell _Roy_" he drawled, "To get out of my head, or I will castrate him the moment I get back. How do I get the protection off?"

The man was silent for a moment, as if listening to someone speaking on the other end of the connection. "The captain says, quote unquote, 'You'll have to catch me first, and then actually muster the courage to go for my dick.' And he also told me to tell you to keep your communicator on and that he was just getting a look at the situation, thank you very much." Against his will, Edward grinned fondly at the thought of the two men. "Anyway, the shock of the electromagnetic wave should be enough to strip the wires of their protection and take out the generator. If not, it will at least damage the generator and make it so that it doesn't run at optimum. So just set the bombs."

"Can do." He replied, sorely tempted to switch off the communicator again just to give Mustang the shits.

He looked at the wires for a moment, thinking of how best to tackle his problem. Placing his bag down he glanced left and right in the dark night, not noticing anything that was out of the ordinary. There was a wall behind him, the start of the human training compound that it was his mission to take out the power of. He opened his bag as quickly and as silently as he could manage, and extracted one of the Electro-magnetic wave emitters from within it. The machine was set to detonate and expel energy in all directions, focusing on any metal within the area. This, hopefully, would mean the underground generator, and hopefully it would create enough heat to melt the internal wires of the generator and create a short circuit. Carefully balancing the contraption in one hand, he leaned forward and cleared some of the red dust away from the cables the bomb was to be attached to. He levered it in, taking great care not to jostle it and set it off prematurely and fastened it to one of the tick, black wires, making a small cut in the plastic outer coating with a blade-like contraption the avians called a Shiv. "Set it for button push detonation." Hughes told him. "There's too much discrepancy in this mission for a timed release."

Edward nodded, even though the man couldn't see it. Once the bomb was set, he stood and grinned. "Which tower next?" he asked the mouthpiece.

"Roy's ego." Come Hughes' laughing reply.

* * *

Roy pulled his mind back from the Princes' with a disbelieving snort. "Some friend you are." He told Hughes with a wry smirk.

The man on the communications station laughed and switched off the microphone he'd been using to converse with Edward, gently tugging off the headphones in his ears so to better talk with the man who had been standing behind him. He leaned back in his chair (it squeaked in protest) and grinned toothily. "It's true though. Your ego needs to be cut in half and THEN some."

Roy rolled his eyes with fond exasperation. Folding his arms over his chest, and with a mock offended expression he replied, "And here I thought my self confidence inspired my men." He let the look drop. "In any case, I'm still not comfortable with the prince doing this mission. I didn't struggle looking for him so he could go kill himself."

Hughes nodded. "I don't think anyone is truly comfortable with this except Ed. Even then I'm not sure." The man sighed. "However, I think he's trying to prove himself to you. He doesn't want anyone hurt in the process."

Roy allowed himself a frown. "Alphonse would have completed this mission so much faster."

"Yes, but those two boys have developed quite the bond in such a short time. I hear that Al's even taken to calling his older brother exactly that instead of his name. Edward doesn't want to see his brother in danger." An evil glint came to Hughes' demeanour. "Speaking of that little fact..."

With a sigh, Roy lowered his eyes from those of his best friend. He couldn't count the amount of times he'd had this exact conversation with those on board the ship. Once the news had come to light that the prince was the brother of 'that loveable boy Alphonse', he had been plagued by questions and demands for his immediate relief of the captaincy for keeping something so important from the people of the ships. He looked up at Hughes' laugh. "You sly dog, keeping THAT bombshell from everyone. What happened to you being unable to keep secrets, huh?"

Roy snorted, vastly relieved. Placing a hand on his best friend's shoulder he commented, "Hughes, I think you'll find that's you."

The Avian at the control panel snorted. "As if. I bet you any money that when I die, I'll have gathered vast amounts of vital information and will have not cared to share it with anyone." He said with the air of upmost certainty. "YOU on the other hand, _Ronald_ will find yourself in a life or death battle because you told the wrong person too much."

Roy allowed himself a true laugh, and then flinched as he realised exactly what Hughes had called him. Any reply the man would have made, however, was cut short by the loud scream that came from Hughes' headphones at just that moment. Both men paled considerably as the yell faded from their ears.

Shocked silence reigned supreme for three seconds.

Hughes cursed loudly and quite vulgarly in the avian tongue and dived for the microphone, hastily clipping it back where it was positioned just above his chin. Placing the headphones in his ear, he gave Roy a hopeless look, but the man was already gone, pressing in on Edward's thoughts, worry etched onto every one of his features.

* * *

"Highness! Highness! Ed!"

"I'm alright. I just slipped." Edward's breath was coming in hard pants, and his face was hot with embarrassment. He was suspended about forty feet from the ground, by his right ankle, after having toppled backwards from where he was working on the last of the towers, most unfortunately located in the centre of the human compound. If a human were to look up at that moment, they would have seen him in what had to be a comical sight, suspended by one foot, upside down and with his cloak around his head. He flapped his wings in an attempt to right himself, but this only hurt his ankle, caught as it was between two crossbeams.

Hughes sighed relief over the communicator as the pressure behind his eyes returned. "Be careful, I believe I told you." The man said, and a sound that was disturbingly like background laughter echoed down the connection. Edward scowled, and with great effort he swung himself up to grip another beam before freeing his foot. Muffled sounds, like suppressed snickers flowed down the line and Edward's anger and embarrassment chose to show itself in the form of a low and dangerous growl. Mustang must have told Hughes.

"Would you two comedians shut it?" He bit out past clenched teeth. He flapped his wings to give him a boost over the side of the ledge and from there proceeded to work back up to the portion of the roof on which he had been working. He carefully avoided the exposed pipe he hadn't seen before and returned to the work he was doing. This was by far the most dangerous of the towers, located within the compound towards the centre. It was perched high above the rest of the compound in an attempt to discourage sabotage.

"The captain says the cables are to your left." Said Hughes, still sounding FAR too amused.

"Right." Edward replied, reaching into his bag and extracting the last bomb. It was nothing short of a miracle that it hadn't fallen out, exploded or both when he had fallen.

"This one's going to be very difficult to place." Hughes commented thoughtfully. "And once you've got it down it's probably going to be as unstable as shit. Place it and get out of there as fast as possible." Edward didn't trust himself to reply. Concentrating on the wires he was carefully wrapping around the cables he bit his lip out of nervousness as just how dangerous this part of the mission was occurred to him. The bomb was a mix of the electromagnetic waves of the others, but it had a bit of a spin attached to it, and that spin was what Edward was fixing now.

Edward attached the plastic explosive slowly and carefully, attaching the leads that would connect it to the fuse of the electrostatic portion of the bomb. It was a weapon that had been made from a combination of stolen human technology and avian know-how and it hadn't been tested. Electrical pulses were going to trigger the spark that would set the whole contraption off.

In short, the tower was going to go boom.

"Well done, Ed." Said Hughes as Edward attached the trigger and stepped back to admire his handiwork. "The captain wants you to return to the transport ship now that your mission is complete. Once you're about a kilometre away from the tower, activate the bombs."

"Right. Rodger that. Returning now." He said, and then proceeded to make a dreadful mistake. Against Hughes' previous warning, he took flight.

He had flown about three metre when the first _thing_ grazed his left cheek and searing, burning pain followed what seemed to be a wave of boiling heat. He banked a hard right. "What the hell was that?" he demanded into the microphone.

"That was the ground-to... hey! Roy! Give that back!"

"Princess." Roy's voice cut over the communication channel, Hughes' mutterings barely audible in the background.

"don't _call_ me... HOLY SHIT!" Another shot grazed past his knee.

"Duck." Said Mustang, and wonder of Wonders, Edward did so as another of the blasts soared over his head. The end of his hair was clean cut off and about one inch just sizzled before his eyes, the acidic smell of burnt hair plaguing him. "And I don't think I've ever called you holy shit." There was an edge of panic to Mustang's tone that killed the would-be joke.

"What the fuck is going on?" he yelled, spinning to one side as a wave of heat barely missed his ear.

"Welcome to the world of combat; Edward. Hard right." He did so, barely avoiding being sliced in two. As it was, the beam took out three of his feathers. "These would be lasers." Mustang informed him.

"What?" Confusion flittered past Edward's face as he spiralled downwards and came to a sickening stop, dismally close to dying. He flapped twice and shot up again, barely avoiding a crossbeam. His wings were hurting from the prolonged flight acrobatics, he wasn't ready for this! "You mean those coloured beams they shoot in badly made movies? Why the HELL can't I see them?"

"Drop back." Snapped Mustang urgently. "drop your illusion, it's useless anyway. When the humans register, right! That something is going on, they'll just start firing." Edward was breathing erratically, a stitch was developing in his side, and adrenaline was pounding through his system. "You cant' see the lasers because you don't see lasers. They're made purely from DOWN! Light and you can only see that if it lands on something." Mustang's voice, while urgent, had lost that degree of fear and was cool and composed once more. Edward shot down in a spiral, weapons firing at him from all around and barely missing him. Only when he was in danger of crashing did he pull out of the nosedive and with three fierce flaps of his wings he shot off down a narrow, east facing alleyway, wings at full spread and with barely enough room to breathe. To his left a piece of brick wall exploded.

He flew faster.

His hair was unravelling, a completely inappropriate part of his brain noted. The shot that had destroyed the tip of his hair had taken out the tie and it was coming out. He spun around a corner, barely avoiding coming head first into another wall, ducked around a human that sprung up out of seemingly nowhere and dived through an open warehouse door into a room full of...

"Motorbikes?" The chrome helms shone in almost studio-like lighting, of the large room. The floor was covered in grease stains and the walls were covered in different tools and parts. The bikes themselves shone with an almost dull gleam as if they hadn't been polished in a while and most were covered with the fine red dust that was the planet's surface. He realised how utterly exposed he was, standing in the garage doorway around about then and made a hasty dart to the shadows on the far side of the room. Human voices came from the right wall and Edward froze, noticing belatedly the second doorway and that his movements had just pretty much cornered him. Mustang was being decidedly quiet and unhelpful and the voices were growing louder as if they were approaching.

"...right Ling. You've just got to tone it down a bit. Not every girl in the world actually wants to sleep with you. Pass me that wrench would you?" Said a disturbingly familiar female voice, and if Edward had of been still capable of moving, he would have seized up then and there, as it was he was pretty sure his heart had stopped beating. He took a deep shuddering breath and pressed into the wall, looking for something, anything to hide his face.

"This one?" Asked a male voice with a slight oriental accent and the female gave a dismissive snort.

"No, the one next to it, dumbass. I thought you said you were _good_ at fixing things. Can't you even tell a sixty-six-two-b wrench from a sixty-six-two-a?" This wasn't happening, it simply wasn't happening. She couldn't be _here._ She just couldn't, not that person who would know that trivial difference between something so small, not the person who had been studying mechanics since she was three years old and practising it since she was 5. "Which one of these piles of junk is broken anyway?"

"number seventeen. It overheated when the..."

"Radiator ran dry. How the hell did THAT happen? These things run on hydrogen fuel, they literally create their own water." A black head darted into view, followed by a blonde one. In desperation, Edward saw a helmet just a little way away and made a hasty grab for it, pushing it on. It was slightly too large, but he didn't care.

Roy's voice came to him. "Oh you're not going to steal one of those things, are you?" Caught unawares, Edward jumped.

"Quiet. They'll hear you." Though it wasn't a bad idea. He thought as he moved towards one of the red bikes. It had a black three painted on the front. Seventeen, the broken bike was right next to it, by some unfortunate stroke of luck, and he looked over at the two approaching. The two humans headed his way were barely teenagers, neither had turned towards him, and he prayed desperately that it wasn't her. He straddled bike three and pressed the ignition switch. The engine gave a loud revving roar and both of the human's heads snapped up.

His worst nightmare was confirmed as a pair of blue eyes met his through the helmet's visor. He had never been so grateful for tinting in his life as Winry, tall, blonde, tomboyish Winry stared at his wings with a look of utmost hate on her features. She was just as he remembered from three months ago, and some part of him, the part that desperately wished she wasn't cried out in agony.

There was a pause in which the only sound was the soft rumbling of the bike's engine.

Edward sighed, and then, almost unsure why he did so, he spoke. "Get out of here, humans." His voice came out shaky and weak, not at all as he had hoped. "If you value your lives."

Without watching her, He revved the engine and roared out of the garage his hair flying behind him like some golden sheet and the cries of "Angels!" and "We're under attack!" trying to keep up with him but laying choked and dying in his dust cloud. A laser blast from a hand held weapon grazed his knee. He didn't turn around to see which one of the two had fired it, he didn't think he'd be able to handle it if it was her.

In desperation, he pressed the detonation button and an explosion racked the world behind him, locking the electric doors of the complex open. Without pausing, he roared through them, the bike vibrating almost unbearably behind him. He couldn't see for the tears streaming from his eyes.

* * *

It was only after he was several kilometres away from the compound and could still see the smoke rising in the distance, at the base of mount Olympus that Edward stopped the motorcycle. He shakily stepped off the bike, barely trusting his legs to hold him up, pulled back his hair and heaved until his stomach was empty.

And when Mustang asked him about it later, he denied everything.

* * *

.

* * *

_A/n: ... ... ... ... ... ... ... _

_-DED- You have permission to brick me._

_But please leave a review first?_


	12. Depth of Character

Edward Elric felt empty inside.

It reminded him of how he had often felt in his years alone with only two rabbits to guard and one contact with the outside world. Of those times when he would indulge in just a little bit of alcohol, because even just a sip was enough to give him that buzz and let him get on with it. He stared at the wall on the other side of the stifling, dark compartment and sighed at the oak panelled walls. For a moment, he thought he was back in Paul Duncan's office, sitting on that stupid overly stuffed chair the man saved just for him. And then, almost gratefully he remembered he wasn't, he was in the depths of a ship stuck in a vacuum and suspended like an instrument of doom over a black smoke cloud in the atmosphere of Mars. He still couldn't remember much of the journey back to the transport, back to the ship, nor of Hughes' gushing over the motorcycle he had brought back with him. He had retreated straight to his room, to the mat in its centre and now he lay there, curled up tightly with only his head peeking out of the circle. The wall had a wooden knot on it about level with his eyes. It wasn't a particularly attractive one.

Down There. Winry had been down There. It should have been an easy mission with no name people, wasn't that why Mustang had let him take it in the first place? But she had changed all that, hadn't she? She'd just had to be difficult and be there. That blast might have killed her, he was hoping that they'd been far enough away from the blast when he let it off. It was meant to be a confined explosion anyway. But he might have killed her and it didn't hurt as much as it should have, which was what made him feel guilty and horribly, horribly empty. He winced his eyes closed as he heard his door open.

There was a gentle hand in his hair, smoothing out the knots. His eyes shot open in an instant, head snapping around to see Roy Mustang, grim and stony-faced smoothing down his hair like some mixture of father and friend. The fingers carded and brushed, and Edward tried to pull away, but the look Mustang sent him made him stop. Mustang knew how he felt, that much was obvious from the man's eyes alone. He attempted a glare, but his face didn't feel up to working today.

Mustang looked like he appreciated the effort at least. The man's skin seemed to glow in the poorly lit room, the pale complexion that all the avians had making him seem like such a contrast, black on a great expanse of white. Edward wondered briefly where the comparison had come from, and made a small confused noise.

Mustang merely smirked that damn smirk, trying to establish some sort of normalcy in the scene. When it didn't come, he frowned, and opened his mouth to speak.

Edward beat him to it. "Don't." he said. "Don't give me any of your damn truths, Mustang, because I don't want to hear them." His feet were flicking slightly and he stopped them.

"This is war, Edward. They would have killed you, no second thoughts, no regrets. Point blank, looking in your eyes, it doesn't matter the circumstance. They hate us, we hate them. It's the way it works." The fibres of the regulation mat were coarse on Edward's skin. "Princess..."

"What did I just say?" Edward demanded, jerking away from those hands. "I don't want any of your truths. I just don't. Stop talking. Stop it." He fought back the heat burning at his eyes. "Stop it."

Mustang drew his head back gently, coaxing Edward out of the curled up position he was in. The hand returned to his hair, soft, cool and gentle, a contrast to the person who owned it. Edward didn't have the strength to fight. "If I could, I would make it so that none of this had happened."

The fingers in his hair gently tugged at a large tangle, and Edward gave a small snort. "I used to try and kill myself, you know." He said. "I used to go for the big knife block in the kitchen, just to one side of the table, and also for Nick's razor in the bathroom. No one never understood why, not even I did, but I used to go for them anyway."

The hands in his hair stilled in their petting and shook slightly. For a moment, Edward thought Mustang might say something, or at least comment on his stupidity, but the man remained quiet, leaving an awkward silence.

"It was an outlet of relief." Edward continued, trying to cover the gap. "I think I always knew I didn't really belong there and I would feel guilty for that and just... go for the knives. It was a spiral, really. I'd feel guilty, go for the knives and then feel even guiltier for the pain that I was bringing Nick and Ana as well. I knew it hurt them, and I couldn't stop myself in the end." He swallowed thickly and blinked, focusing his eyes on that ugly knot in the wall. It was like someone had opened a dam and now all the water was coming out. He couldn't stop talking, and Mustang was just being so damn quiet and attentive, the bastard. "Being adopted didn't help either. Ana and Nick didn't exactly hide the fact that I wasn't their child from me. They didn't give me their last name, after all. You don't know how stressful that can be."

He paused, and still, Mustang said nothing, but the hand in his hair started moving again, and Edward took it as a sign of encouragement, that the man knew this had to get out somewhere. "See, you're not an individual, you're part of a collective, one of every other person with your name out there. You're not an individual, and as strange as this sounds it makes you different, makes people look at you out of the corner of their eyes and hide their smiles behind their hands while they pretend to sympathise.'  
"Ana and Nick wanted me to be called Gabriel."

Mustang did supply some input then. "But you said your name was Edward and didn't change your mind, when you learnt how to talk. Because that's a part of who you are, Edward. You are Edward Elric."

Edward gave a slightly watery laugh. "When I was six, Winry's parents died. I didn't understand until that moment that I wasn't like other orphans. I felt horrible when I realised that she still got to be Winry Rockbell, even though she was meant to be like me now. I was still just Ed, and she was Winry Rockbell. Why was _she_ allowed to have her name still, when I wasn't? Why was I still the only one to have no identity? No individuality?" A hot tear trickled down his face, and he swiped at it furiously. "Ana and Nick didn't trust me, took all sharp objects away from me, and Winry still got her last name."

"Ana and Nick didn't want you taken away from them, Edward. You were their son."

It shouldn't have meant so much, wouldn't have, if it hadn't been Mustang who said it. "Winry was there, in that camp. I saw her look when she saw my wings. I felt the hatred there. Mustang, I betrayed her, I probably killed her! She was the only human I cared about who hadn't been fucked over by the humans and I betrayed her."

He heard Mustang's frown as the man spoke. "You wouldn't have had to if you weren't betrayed by the avians first. If we had done our duty..."

Edward whirled around and to his feet in an instant, looking down on the seated avian. "FUCK DUTY MUSTANG!" His hands came up, balled and defensive. "FUCK IT! I DON'T CARE! I couldn't care less for duty. Duty never did anything for me. DUTY KILLED MY PARENTS AND TURNED THEM INTO MONSTERS. I HATE it I hate it. And when I fight it, I only make it worse."

Mustang stood, and embraced him, taking him completely by surprise. He found himself wrapped in strong, warm arms, and a voice somewhere above him, sounding disturbingly choked said softly, "You can say all that, but you can't say my name?"

Edward stared for a moment at the black shirt he was being held in, before shoving away angrily. "Get away from me, you pervert."

Mustang smiled sadly, before leaving the room with a quiet, "As you wish, Edward."

He had the distinct feeling he'd failed the man somehow. Edward Elric sat down and attempted to puzzle it out.

* * *

Mustang frowned. That definitely had not gone to plan. The prince was still sulking, old wounds were becoming fresh and...

"Sir." Hawkeye's voice rang behind him. He turned; his smirk already fixed in place, and met her head on. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

His smirk grew exponentially as he shoved his hands into his pockets in a smug, yet elegant fashion. "I'm planning political conquest. Care to join?"

She glared at him. "You are a sick man, Mustang. That boy trusts you."

"What universe have you been in?" The man sighed as the woman moved on. "Trees above, he's my _Only_ and I can't tell him."

* * *

Edward sat at the head of the long table, a bored and somewhat pained look on his face. It was another war meeting and Mustang currently had the floor. The man was making a solid attempt to kill them all with a strategical meeting to discuss possible battle plans in the war with the humans. So far, no one had posed any questions to the man, but Edward's need for clarification was slowly coming to light.

He felt that stab of fire in his chest again, and attempted to ignore it. As the Prince of the avians he was not expected to have feelings of any sort for humans. It was his _duty_ to secure the avians victory.

"...And as such, the humans are regrouping, with an unexpected swell in numbers to the south of the training facility removed. This could possibly mean that they are planning another assault, therefore our best option is to attack now and cripple their forces before this can take place." The man finished, and Edward returned his attention to the present.

He looked up just in time to watch Alphonse glance at the large strategy map out of the corner of his eye. The young 'undiscovered prince' (As the populace was calling him) frowned. "Shouldn't we wait a while longer to see their intentions?" He asked with concern in his eyes.

"Negative." Hawkeye replied gently, her voice soft and subtle in the quiet room. "If we were to wait, the swelling in numbers would mean an overly large ground force, one that would prove much more difficult to take out." Her eyes grew dull. "Waiting at this stage would mean a massacre of our forces."

Mustang nodded. "Lisa is correct. We must strike now, in order to demolish their forces in one blow before they have a change to recuperate from the bombing." He frowned. "Their power has been destroyed, but at the rate they are moving, they will have it back online within a month."

Edward nodded slowly, the colour draining from his features. "This means that..."

Mustang frowned at him, his features becoming decidedly stony. "What it means is that due to the limited casualties of the bombing, only three were killed and only in the tower containing the largest blast, we must strike now. No delays."

Edward gritted his teeth and struggled against the swelling of his heart. He bit out, "What are our forces like in comparison?" His heart, however, soared. Winry hadn't been killed! Relief and joy washed over him in waves, but he was careful not to show them in a room full of Avians.

Cain Feury stood and filled him in with the answer. "We have less than one third of their might in numbers." He said, his voice shaking slightly. "However, due to the abilities of many of our generals, and the fire and telekinesis of our captain, overall power levels strike even." He sighed, sitting once more.

Alphonse licked his lips thoughtfully. "But now we have two 'Mind Manipulators.'" He smiled at Edward, and the prince gave him a grin in return. It would definitely tip the odds in their favour. "Which means that we can manipulate more humans at once. Edward and I.."

"Will sit this battle out." Mustang interrupted easily. "This fight is much too risky for the involvement of royal blood." He ignored the twin cries of protest. "The statistics simply don't merit you two risking yourselves."

Edward glared at him for a moment, before looking down at the map himself. The holographic design of the battlefield twinkled blue back at him, the 3D rendering frighteningly accurate.

"Mustang." He said, scanning his eyes over the terrain. "What if we put either Al or I here?" He gestured to a rocky outpost not fifty metres from the main human forces. "The brother that you don't use can travel with your party."

"I just said it was out of the question." Mustang replied, sounding highly put upon. "if the human forces were to establish your importance..."

"It won't matter." Edward shot back. "They won't see us. The brother in the outcropping will provide an illusion of a fleet of some thousand Avians flying in from the north, while the forces attack on foot from the south, the other brother cloaking them. The end result is confusion within the Earth forces, and probably an eventual panic in which our control can be easily gained."

"While minimising Avian losses." Supplied Alphonse. "It's Win-Win. Captain."

Mustang sighed, and laid wary eyes on them both. "Be it on your heads then. I suppose I don't have much say in the matter anyway, as the royal family is the controlling power."

Edward smirked. "Yeah, the whole avian fleet has to take orders from a fifteen year old. Scary thought, isn't it?"

Mustang merely smirked knowingly.

* * *

.

* * *

_A/n: I apologise for the shortness of this chapter. Once again I had to remove a scene because it disrupted the flow._

_And YAY! New plot twist! What does Roy have planned? -Bum BUM BUUUUUUM- _

_Okay, I'm done being an idiot. _

_I've got my exams on at the moment, so don't expect another chapter for at least two weeks. _

_Next up: What REALLY happened to Winry? And is this whole war thing ever going to happen?_

_Also a brief note: If you have a question regarding my fiction in any way, do not hesitate to EMAIL me. I prefer not to have discussions on a chapter/review basis, or in a public forum. This is just me being highly pedantic. _

_And finally: I'm issuing a general statement here and now to prevent any questions on this topic. I WOULD PREFER IT IF THE IDEAS OR ELEMENTS OF AWWA WERE NOT COPIED IN ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM. There are **legal reasons** involved in this, which **I am not at liberty to divulge until the closure of the fanfiction**._

_I might not even be able to then. But for now, the elements or ideas in this story that are my own (eg. DIGIT experimentation, the unique biology and processes of the avians and so forth) are under my copyright and cannot be used without my expressed, written permission. Which I am very unlikely to give._

Also, I in no way, shape or form claim to own FullMetal Alchemist or any of it's related indicia. It is the property of Square Enix.  


_I do not say this to be an asshole, and most certainly, once the legalities are over and done with I will reconsider this view. However, until such time I merely ask for patience and respect for my standing. Please don't consider me a right bitch for doing this._

_Much love, Catherine French._

_Please leave a review? -cringes in fear of flying bricks-_


	13. Dream and Memory

Everywhere around her was burning, smoking, smouldering. The room was filled with a thick black smoke, limiting her vision so much she couldn't even see Ling and he was only a few feet away. She never thought she'd miss seeing the squinty eyed, black haired pervert. A few seconds of encompassing blackness and she just wanted to see anything again.

The heat burnt at her eyes and skin, stuck in the back of her throat and dried it out more than the rocky terrain of the planet's surface. It was painful and too ticklish and launched her into a coughing fit. Falling to her knees she gasped as the relatively cleaner air reached her lungs, and the action sent her chest into spasms again. She pushed herself upright.

She crawled blindingly through the smog and coughed against the soot attempting to choke her. Her skin was beginning to blister and peel. She yelled helplessly but no sound came out of her and no answer reached her ears. Everywhere was either black or a dull glowing orange. The chrome helm of a bike glittered in the heat as she staggered past it, coughing and blinking back a flood of tears as the smoke stung her eyes. The exit couldn't have been too far ahead of her now; the smoke thickened for a moment, and then began to clear as she made her way out of the smoke filled garage. She staggered towards the clearing, relief flooding through her system as she collapsed on to her knees only a small distance away from the flames. She could feel the heat on her back still.

Something stood out a small distance ahead and for a moment Winry was terrified that the flames hadn't been contained to the couple of buildings. The thing was vibrant red and yellow, swimming and flickering before her but it was solidifying and becoming more corporeal by the second. The red solidified and focused into a long and sweeping cloak, flaring back as if forced behind by some large objects. The yellow became a familiar spun gold and shone slightly orange with light reflected from the flames. A human dipped into her wavering vision, one so familiar to her smoke-addled brain. Feminine but not and it couldn't be... "Edward?"

The figure turned as she rasped out the name of her best friend. Golden eyes, like that of an eagle pinned her for a moment, no emotion scarring them, and then a whirlpool at once. Regret, sadness, happiness and strangely an underlying peace that she had never seen in them before. He was here! Edward was here! She gingerly reached out a hand towards him trying to reach him and hold him close to her and never let go. He looked worried for a moment and took a slight step back and she nearly cried out in denial. He couldn't leave her again. He wouldn't! He smiled sadly at her and she lost herself in it for a moment and tears prickled at the edge of her vision.

The smile faded from his features and he stepped back away from her, pressing himself into the wall in horror as his face faded away to be replaced by a helmeted figure with two scarlet wings on either side of it's body. Evil intention reeked off its frame and she shuddered at the glare she could feel from beyond that visor. "Get out of here, Human." It said in a cold and muffled voice. "If you value your life." It launched up into the Mars night, beating powerful wings to obtain lift easily. Her eyes locked on blood coloured feathers as an explosion behind her sent her rocketing forward.

Winry's eyes snapped open. She was sweaty and panting, and in the female barracks of the army's compound, not the hangar bay. It took her a moment to realise this and she looked at the tent-style walling and iron beds in confusion before her memory kicked in.

The bombing had been a week ago. There had been no reported angel activity since then. She sighed with relief. "Just a dream"

It took her a moment to realise she wasn't alone in being awake at such a strange hour. Two beds down and on the opposite side of the room a girl of oriental descent sat upon her own mattress and was watching her with concern. Her hair was long and tied ornately into two buns, fixed into sleeping covers which glinted in the light from the stars that came through the window. Her exact features were hard to make out in the dark but Winry knew her as Ran Fan, a girl who had unofficially taken to being the boy Ling's bodyguard.

"You were yelling rather loudly." Ran informed her in a voice nearly toneless. She said it as if stating a fact like the weather and showed little to no care besides her initial worry.

"I'm sorry, Ran." Winry said, sincere. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

The girl shook her head with a small smile. "I was not asleep. I was meditating on a disturbing thought, which you seem to have many of at the moment. This is merely judging by the reactions you had to your subconscious' visions as you slept." Winry felt an eyebrow rise but said noting on the girl's strange talking habits, having grown used to it over the period in which they had been sharing a dormitory.

She sat up, tugging her legs to her chest and covering her front with the military grade blanket. "It was just a bad dream." She smiled weakly and attempted to ignore the tremors still running through her from the visions the dream presented. The room seemed deathly cold, so she rubbed her legs slightly for warmth. "It was nothing really major."

"You should not dismiss your dreams, Miss Rockbell." Ran was sitting straight backed, her legs crossed Indian style in front of her, and her hands were resting in her lap. The pose seemed awkward and uncomfortable in comparison to Winry's inelegant slouch, as if the girl couldn't really let her guard down. "Dreams often hold the key to sources of discontent and unease. Do you wish to tell me of its content and perhaps I can analyse its meaning for you."

"It was just a nightmare about the attack." Winry replied with a small shake of her head. A small smile made its way onto her features. "It's nothing serious, but thankyou."

Ran acknowledged this with a small and polite frown. "It seems that our problems may not be dissimilar then after all, Miss Rockbell." She said.

'Excuse me?"

"I too was thinking of that night." She sighed at Winry's blank look. "More specifically of the strange life energy I sensed from the perpetrator of the bombings."

"Strange life energy?" Winry asked, nonplussed.

Ran nodded, the movement barely visible in the dark gloom. "The angel in question did not seem to me like the other angels that we have had to deal with. In fact, so much are the differences present that I am left to question the true identity of the angel and whether if it is indeed an angel and not another human. The formation of its life energy was that of a human."

Winry's brow crinkled. "You mean a _human_..."

"Not necessarily. It is not impossible that an angel could have the life force composition of a human. It is only highly improbable. Life force depends not only on what something is, but what they believe they are also. An example would be an eagle that thinks itself a chicken would have a life force pattern less akin to that of an eagle and more toward a chicken. However, the pattern would be confused between them both."

"So the angel," Said Winry, not really understanding. "Is an angel, but thinks it's a human?"

"The angel had a strange and confused life force. It was between angel and human, with no particular stress on either. Which could mean anything, a change in acceptance, a discovery of hidden information or so forth."

Winry worried at her lip gently thinking back to her dream and the transformation between Edward and the red angel. She shrugged, dismissing the thought. "It was just a dream, Ran." She said.

Ran shrugged. "What is that saying I have heard you use... If you say so?"

It had to be a dream.

After all, Edward didn't have wings, did he?

* * *

"OW! Owowowowowow!" The prince yelled, wrenching his right wing away from Alphonse's prying fingers. "That bloody HURTS Al!"

Alphonse sighed patiently and rolled his eyes. "It's MEANT to hurt, Brother. And I HAVE to take the feather out for the avian military's records." He explained for the 'n'th time.

His brother scowled stubbornly, folding arms over his torso in a display of defiance. Drumming his left hand's fingers over his metal arm he glared at Alphonse from the crux of the tree limb they were both seated on. With a silent cursed oath, Alphonse glared right back, rattling the holding canister for the feather expectantly. The brothers were situated in the main hall in the very same tree that Alphonse had found the prince in those first few days on board the ship. They were situated much higher up, and both were on the same branch, Alphonse further out. Vines hung around them and Edward was attempting to hide his 'injured' wing behind one of them. Al gave him an expectant look mixed with just a tad of the puppy eyes and Edward cracked.

"Okay FINE." He snapped. "Take the damn feather. It's not like I can damn well stop you anyway, is it? Can you take one that doesn't hurt though?"

With another roll of his eyes, Alphonse shuffled along the branch, taking Ed's wing in hand. "You're such a cry-baby, Brother. They all hurt, and I need to take this one to keep the records consistent." He sighed, taking hold of the offending feather and tugging on it slightly. Much to the protests of the prince. "Now, I'm going to pull this out on the count of three, do you understand?"

"When I'm officially King, this is the FIRST thing that goes."

Alphonse laughed and shook his head. "It's only a small moment of pain, brother."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just get on with it."

"One." Alphonse tugged the feather out expertly.

As expected, Edward howled in more indignance than pain. "What happened to three?" Edward asked quite nastily, glaring at his younger brother.

"You would have tensed up on three." Alphonse replied clinically, sealing the feather away in it's container and writing some details in a strange script on the side.

Ed sent him a hurt puppy look which he completely ignored. "Why did you have to take the feather anyway?" his brother asked with a slight pout.

Al shrugged. "Identification purposes really, should the unforseen happen while you're on a mission. I was actually meant to do it before you went out the first time, but I never got the chance."

"So it's in case I die?"

Alphonse levelled his eyes at his brother rather seriously for a moment, before he grinned. "Pretty much, Yes."

Edward laughed and swatted at him before his expression turned inward and contemplative. "Hey Al?'

"Hmm?" asked his brother, already working on something else.

"Am I fighting for the right side?"

* * *

"Edward, a word if you please." Startled, Edward looked up from the salad that had been captivating his attention for the past few minutes and into the serious eyes of his captain.

With a slightly puzzled frown, Edward nodded. "If I really have to." He gestured to the free seat in front of him with his right hand, his left occupied using a fork to pick at a slightly wilted green leaf.

Mustang shook his head. "In private, if you will."

Nonplussed, Ed stood and followed the man out of the dining hall, leaving his half-eaten dinner behind him. The two took a short cut through the main hall of the ship, hopping from Tree to tree rather fast, leaving Edward even more confused than before as Mustang appeared not to be stopping. They flew over a large gap in the trees and suddenly, Edward was within a part of the ship he didn't recognise. The air smelt musty here, and the trees were more than a little wild and unkempt.

Mustang stopped so suddenly, that Edward flew into his back with a resounding thud and nearly toppled the both of them out of the trees. They both windmilled wildly, wings flaring and flapping to help with their balance. Once it had been restored, Mustang stood to the side to give Edward more room on the overhanging branch. Turning to face him, Mustang graced Edward with a most peculiar look. "A few trees ahead, the main hall ends and there is a large set of doors. Doors which have not been opened in fourteen years, due to high amounts of speculation and superstition."

"And?" Edward said, raising his left eyebrow.

"The royal chambers lie beyond those doors. I thought you might like to see them before you go into battle tomorrow." Mustang spared him a glance, before continuing on, and Edward followed with slight apprehension. He suddenly noticed how quiet it was in this part of the ship. There was none of the perpetual birdsong, and no insects were around at all.

Suddenly, the trees up ahead parted, and Edward found him staring at a large expanse of chrome steel which was the make up of the ship. Set into the gleaming metal was a white marble door, over twelve feet high and nearly impossibly detailed. Engraved into the middle was a large eye surrounded by a triangle and resembling strongly the trinity of one of the dead earth religions. Set behind it was a large tree, branches heading out and ending in names and dates which were worn and slightly faded. Edward couldn't make them out. Peacock feathers graced the bottom of the door and overall it was a large and rather foreboding structure. Edward sucked in a breath. Roy stood to one side of the monstrosity, typing something into a control panel.

Creaking and groaning like an old tree in a strong wind, the doors slowly swung outwards, expelling fourteen years worth of dust and decay into the air. The room beyond them seemed impossibly black and Edward stared at the opening with trepidation, one hand up to protect his eyes from the dust swirling in the air.

Mustang remained in his position to the side of the doors, gesturing with his head that Edward should go first into the dark room. He did, slowly and carefully, swallowing. As soon as he placed one foot into the room, it flooded with light, and he blinked several times to get his eyes used to the new glare.

There was dust everywhere, covering every surface. It spoiled what would have been a beautiful and ornate room if it were not for the grey-brown covering everything had. There were large terracotta pots scattered about, long since emptied of plants and a dry pond with a rock structure that appeared to be a waterfall in one corner. There was what appeared to be a sitting room section, with old, moth-eaten couches which looked like they would have been highly fashionable and comfortable in their time. Stepping through the room, Edward winced as his footsteps rang hollow and echoed around, causing the room to seem bigger than it really was. He made his way to room containing an elegantly designed bed, complete with a mouldy quilt only slightly raised off the ground. What seemed to be a cradle stood to one side. There were doorways leading off in many directions scattered around, and gold decorations graced the wood panelling of the walls. Glass glittered here and there as the light from overhead caught on it.

"The rooms you are seeing are designed to match the rooms of the avian palace down to the last minute detail. The idea invoked was the prince, who had to be transported from the planet's surface due to a rampant disease crisis, would feel no displacement from his place of birth, no matter how far the ship had to travel." Mustang said, approaching him. Edward jumped slightly at the first word the man spoke, before returning to studying the worn rooms intently. "The only difference was the door through which we entered. The rooms have degraded most obviously, but the external features appear to be still intact."

Edward laid his hands upon the faded wood of the cot. He felt like there was a lump stuck within his throat and choked against it. "I..."

"The room was created for the purposes of getting the young prince used to the palace for his return. However, this plan was forfeited when it was discovered there was no way for us to get home, and the prince was lost. The rooms were sealed off due to the high amount of conspiracy flowing through the people. The decision of your mother to move to a small soldiers quarters until the birth of her second son was one of the most sacrificing ones she would make."

There was a stuffed plush toy within the cot. It was a small orange cat with glistening angel wings. It was slightly rotted and moth eaten, one black eye was slightly loose and the stitching was torn in more than one place.

"Every last one of the infant prince's toys was taken from our home. Plus all of the ones for the new child. Most would never be seen again after we arrived in this sector of the universe."

"I think... I..." Edward stuttered, staring at the toy and seeing a flash of it in it's former glory, fur no longer moth eaten, but long and soft and slender, the orange colour bright, not the dull cream colour it was now. Black bead eyes glinted and then the vision was gone, only replaced with its mouldy counterpart.

The cot changed as well, looming above him and seemingly being a thousand times bigger than it really was, the mahogany-coloured wood shining down at him in a warm way, the polish catching the light from a lamp high overhead. There was a face above him, smiling down warmly. Black eyes crinkled as a slender nose was scrunched into a face that he found hysterical. The young person above him smiled and flicked black hair out of his narrow eyes. Hands reached in and he found himself in the air, but he felt safe, white feathers folded around him. He looked at them, trying to grab one of the feathers that swum into his view, tugging it and dropping it in surprise when he felt a sharp pain. "He likes you, Ronald." A voice said from somewhere and he gurgled.

The vision faded, leaving him looking at the derelict cot in confusion. "I don't understand."

A hand on his chin tilted his head, and he found himself looking into Mustang's face. It was surprisingly soft and open as the man spoke. "The avian memory is an amazing thing, Edward. Every person that you ever meet that is destined to change your life in any way, shape or form you will remember. They are committed forever into your memory at the first point of meeting and nothing you can ever do or accomplish will wipe them. This includes if even under normal circumstances the memory would fade." The hand under his chin moved to his shoulder and rubbed softly. "The rustle of a mother's feathers, a best friend's voice, even the beating of a lover's heart. They will stay with you forever, even as the less important thoughts and memories fade."

Edward sighed, thinking of darkened nights in his apartment when he would hear unexplainable things, see visions dancing across his mind. He had always just known that there was something more for him somewhere, known that he was a part of something greater. It made sense. "Then my breakdown..."

"You called for me, the one person you knew could save you. Who would find you no matter the cost. You told me not to leave you behind, and I don't plan to, Edward. I don't plan to." Mustang reached past him and picked up the small cat toy. Edward stared at it's black eyes intently, not quite able to meet Mustang's gaze. "There's a world out there that's running, Edward. And you have to catch up. But to do that, you have to start taking responsibility for your choices. Your decisions will affect everything around you in some way, shape or form."

Edward nodded, understanding suddenly why the man had brought him here, shown him all this. It was a lesson. A trial. "I'll learn." He said, turning to face Mustang defiantly. "I'll learn if you'll teach me. I'll prove to you that I can be a king to the avians."

Mustang nodded. "I will teach you, Edward Elric, on the provider you call me Roy. I am merely your captain and underling after all. For all the power I hold on this ship."

Edward nodded. "Why do you care what I call you, Mus... Roy? It's not like you're in love with me or anything."

Mustang merely smiled his mysterious smile and didn't answer.

It would be a long time before Edward Elric realised the significance of that action.

* * *

_

* * *

A/n: Review? Please? -shakes her faithful tin-_  



	14. Time for Dark Tidings

The canyon was unerringly silent.

Edward looked down at the human forces with an ugly grimace upon his face. It was nearly high noon and the sun beat down heavily upon his back. A trickle of nervous sweat dripped down past his temple, one he couldn't attribute to the heat. Light here was slightly weaker than it would have been on Earth, but it still lit up the countryside and bathed the rocks red and gold, even at midday. Down below in the ravine bottom, a trail of humans stomped their way across a long dried-up riverbed. The humans were well prepared for an attack by airborne Avians, guns lined their front and flanks, and there was the occasional tank-like contraption amongst them. The humans were fully armed to the teeth.

Of course, this was the genius of the plan that the avians had hatched around a shady war table. They weren't going to attack by air, rendering the human's preparations virtually useless. The ambush was stationed all of 500 metres into the distance, hidden by the bend in the disgustingly narrow canyon that the ants below were making their way through. Edward sat about two thirds up the rock wall, wings rustling slightly in the wind whistling down it. His dull blue military issue clothes were already a slightly reddish-brown and his face stang slightly from where the sand the breeze had picked up had struck him. He shifted his weight and the gun holstered by his side smacked into his leg uncomfortably, something he considered as useless seeing as he couldn't use it at the best of times.

For the fifth time in less than a minute, Edward considered the merits of going down to the human's mobile unit and telling them of the siege just around the corner. A single beep omitted from his earpiece and he sighed, concentrating on his illusion, and bringing his gun up, aiming at a single chest in the army.

Patiently he waited for them to look up.

* * *

The first warning they got was the gasp and slump of one of the riflemen in the back line. The second was Ran's anxious screech and a cry of "Man down" from one of the superiors. Winry would have spun, if the commander of the military unit had not taken her arm and squeezed it painfully.

"We keep going." The tough, blonde woman said and in response, Winry nodded weakly, keeping pace with the other marchers. She heard Ran being dragged forcefully behind her, the girl screeching out Ling's name and the grunts of the men holding her back filling the whole camp with a sense of unease. Winry felt worry settle in the pit of her stomach. "Move faster." The woman pulling her along cried and the camp did just that, speeding their march through the ravine.

"WE CANNOT LEAVE HIM BEHIND!" Ran yelled, still struggling behind them. Winry strained against the urge to look back, the grip on her arm promised harsh consequences should she attempt it. "WE CANNOT..."

"Silence her." The commander said forcefully, and with a thud and a slump, everything behind them fell quiet again. Winry winced and stopped her head from turning with a high amount of willpower. She hoisted her gun higher on her shoulder, the commander finally letting go of her arm. It was scarlet where she had been gripped and starting to turn a faint purplish colour. It still stung.

One of the men from the back line asked carefully, "What should we do with the girl, sir?" The answer was obvious to everyone before the commander even spoke it.

"Leave her with him if she wants to be with him that much." The woman sneered. "We have no time for deadweight."

Winry gulped and kept walking, ignoring how weak her knees suddenly felt. She glanced up briefly, focusing ahead of her once more before doing a double take. "Commander!" She said urgently, stopping and pointing upwards, "Look!"

Fear wrenched her heart as about two thousand angels cleared the ridge of the canyon and dived over the side, flying towards them at a near impossible speed. Her heart clenched somewhere in her throat as she hoisted her gun with trembling hands and aimed for one of the angels charging right for her. Next to her, the commander barked out frantic orders which she barely heard as trembling she fired wildly. The shot went straight past the angel she aimed at, her aim way off. She fired again, this time with adrenaline beginning to pump through her veins. Her accuracy this time was exceptional and the laser passed straight through the angel.

It flapped, floundering, then straightened and continued its charge. Terrified now, she fired again and again, until someone held her back forcefully, wrenching her grip from the guns. The sounds that she had been deaf to a moment ago became audible. Gunfire surrounded her as she was forced backwards towards the farthest line, away from the fighting. Screams and confusion swamped her senses as around her humans started dropping like flies to the angel fire as again and again the blasts the humans fired just passed through them. An explosion licked just over their heads, flames spiralling down and through their ranks. She head screams of agony all around her as people were burnt alive. It stank like a mix of charred flesh and burnt hair as humans around her were dying. The flames licked dangerously close to her and she leapt back in fright, shooting at them blindly. "GET AWAY!" She screamed helplessly, firing at any of the angels that seemed to come close.

The automatic guns weren't firing, she discovered as she pressed her back against one in fear. A dead body fell to the ground near her, blood spurting from where there had once been a head. It was in rigor mortis; arms straight up and hands clenched around a gun butt as if about to fire. She screamed as the red sand by it became crimson even as the blood flow began to cease. The coppery smell of blood plagued her nostrils as she pressed herself even harder against the gun. The weapon she was holding slipped from her fingers as next to her another human fell. This time it was a girl, clutching in agony at her left arm, and then screaming as flames ripped up and around her, leaving her as a pile of burnt ash, facial features still slightly visible and wrenched into a tight scream. Winry felt bile rise in her throat as she looked around her, humans pressing in to fight against what appeared to be an invisible enemy. They fired, the lasers just sliding through the angels as if they weren't there...

"THAT'S NOT THEM!" She screamed, hoisting her gun and aiming it at ground level now, searching for the real angels. Bullets don't just pass though living, breathing beings. There was a loud rumble followed by a flare a little way out as a grenade went off. Smoke piled around, making visibility poor as Winry's senses slowly started coming back to her. She hoisted her gun off the ground, pressing forward through the sea of bodies and doing best to ignore the cries of those around her. A human nearby was shot through the heart, the resulting blood splatter falling over her face and uniform. She shot blindly in the direction that the bullet came from, the resulting grunt meaning she had hit something. She frowned, concentrating now on where the angel's shots were coming from.

_Cloaking._ She thought, _but how?_ She didn't have much time to think of it as something stuck her in the back with a familiar pained yell, and a blast of flame shot past where she had just been standing. She landed on the ground with a thud, a heavy weight on top of her, and when she twisted she couldn't see what it was. Blood spurted from an unidentifiable source and was slowly covering her, dribbling from over the vicinity of her left leg.

* * *

There was a sudden scream of "WINRY!" from where Edward was located up the ravine, and all of the army's heads spun to watch him as he leapt into the air with a single sweep of his wings. Mustang looked at the last surviving human with malcontent, raising his fingers to her chest and snapping efficiently.

They had all seen Edward dive. They had all worked out that he had dived to save her. As expected, the humans had been decimated in a minimal time, with Roy's flame and the advanced weaponry, and of course, Edward and Alphonse's cloaking ability. However, Edward's unexpected change of heart had taken the whole force by surprise. He struck the girl, shoving her bodily out of the way of the fireball, and Mustang felt horror stab through his heart as Edward's left leg was engulfed in a powerful and concentrated fireball.

The battle had finished quickly after that, the avians found themselves infused with a new sense of haste to find and save their prince, and the battle turned quick and bloody. The last of the human forces put up little to no resistance as they were wiped out.

Mustang made his way through the piles of bodies, a handkerchief gently over his nose at the smell, to where the prince lay with one leg clean burnt off up to the knee. "He is loyal." He said softly to Hughes and Alphonse flanking him on either side. "Though to which side I am no longer sure. He must be watched."

Hughes nodded. "I'll put Cain onto that task." The man frowned. "It's a real pity, you know. If only he had been born into the avian family and kept with us from the start, he never would have been put in this position."

Edward was sprawled over the still conscious human's back almost protectively. The prince had been knocked unconscious by the blast and ugly burn marks ran up what remained of his leg. Luckily, the blast had been concentrated enough that his clothes hadn't caught alight, but the edges of his uniform were smouldering slightly. Roy looked at him, sadness clutching at his heart. He leant down, and gently brushed the boy's braid off of his shoulder so it lay elegantly down his back. "He will become loyal to us." He said softly, a small frown gracing his features. "He just has to understand that we are his people. Not them." He crinkled his nose.

"I'm going to let the girl up." He said, reaching down to scoop the unconscious boy into his arms. Edward clung to the girl's own military uniform desperately, even in unconsciousness and Roy let out a frustrated sigh. "I won't harm her, yet." He said and the grip loosened. He easily hefted the boy up after that, Edward made a small moan of discomfort and Roy shifted his grip to take the pressure off of the avian's leg wound. It was bleeding profusely from where the burnt skin had split, and was blistered terribly.

With Edward's weight removed the girl quickly scrambled to her feet. She was actually rather attractive, for a human, Roy reflected. Her eyes were a steel blue, and her figure was curved gently. Her arms appeared muscled, and there was intelligence in the way she stood and surveyed the surroundings, raising her firearm cautiously, and looking about with calculations in her eyes. Her face was covered with blood; her blue eyes were large and fearful as she turned the gun every which way looking for danger. She had long lashes, more akin to a model than a fighter. Roy nodded to Alphonse and the boy dropped the illusion over himself, Roy and Edward. The girl gasped and stood back, noticing them out of the corner of her eye and pointing the gun square at Roy's chest. Hughes stepped back and shrugged, taking in the scene, with his hand cautiously over his own gun in case she should think to shoot.

Mustang raised a single gloved hand into a snapping position, supporting Edward as best he could while doing so. "By all means, human, fire. My men will have shot you before you've even pulled the trigger." He said it calmly and focused on her easily, threatening to snap. She took in the gloves curiously, almost as if wondering what danger they presented her with, but eventually dropping the gun to her side. She glared at him, all forceful under pressure, but the gun slipped from her fingers. It landed in the sand with a dull thump and Roy smirked at her rather innocently in his opinion.

She said nothing, looking at him defiantly. She had a military stance, feet shoulder-width apart, and arms in just the right position to defend her if any punch were to be thrown. Though she must have known she was helpless she still looked him down. Then, she noticed the boy in his arms. She seemed to go into a momentary shock. "Ed?" her voice was gentle, not a fighter's voice at all. "What did you do to him?" She glared at Roy, her eyes snapping coldly to his face. He snorted. Not a fighter's voice, but a fighter's spirit most definitely.

"D...D...don't hurt... her, Roy."

Mustang blinked, taken by surprise, before looking down at the boy in his arms. His eyes were closed and his teeth grit in pain. His breath was coming in laboured pants. But he was awake. Mustang closed his eyes and glanced away, not being able to look at that pale face, usually so very golden, and that sweat caked brow. Hair stuck to the sides of his mouth and there was dust all over him. His voice was shaky and weak, and laced with pain. "I'll do any... anything you... want. Just don't... don't hurt her." His voice was fading. "She's... friend."

He looked at her, glanced quickly over her frame. "Is this true, human?" He spat the name, like it was some kind of disease, taking in the way she flinched back with some sick pleasure. She nodded; her voice appeared choked and stuck in her throat. He gave her a scimitar smile, before hoisting Edward into a more comfortable position in his arms, careful not to jar what was left of his leg.

Alphonse came to his side, fawning over his brother, and looking most anxious. Edward made a small sound of protest at being shifted, and Alphonse gave him a sceptical look. "Well if you didn't want your leg burnt off you shouldn't have jumped in the way." He said, softly mopping down the boy's brow. He then made a very crude bandage out of a piece of material ripped off his uniform and wrapped it tightly around the stump that remained of Edward's left shin. Mustang wasn't sure, but he thought he heard Edward give a very weak, breathy chuckle. One of Edward's hands was loosely tangled in his uniform. He made no effort to move it.

"Round up the survivors." He said calmly, looking at the girl who was still glaring at him. "We can use them in hostage negotiations."

He could have sworn the hand buried in his uniform clenched for a moment, and that he heard a near silent "Thank you."

* * *

_A/n: SORRY! Okay, I won't swamp you with excuses; I'm just letting you know it was a real strain getting this chapter out this month. I got bunnied with something else (Which I'm working on and won't actually submit until it's near finished. I'm not sure how long it's gonna be though.) left school, my life went hectic with Christmas coming up, I got sick about three time... Wait, I thought I said I wasn't gonna give you the excuses. BAD me._

_Oh, and I know I said it was a flat plain that the battle would take place on a few chapters or so ago. I KNOW. I had always planned it to be a ravine, I don't know WHY I said a plain. PLEASE don't point out this plot hole, I know it's there and I plan on fixing it once the fiction is finished. _

_I'm sorry about the length of this chapter. It WAS meant to be longer I swear! But my usual draft, then type method of lengthening things didn't work and..._

_-Shuts up with the excuses-_

_Okay. Okay. It's out. -sighs and grovels like the pathetic little writer that she is- Next chapter is gonna come out some time in late January, after I get back from New Zealand. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone! (Well, season's greetings anyway. And I hope you have a nice holiday whatever celebration you have! )_

_-Rattles her little review tin- ne?_


	15. Out of it

"Sir! Sir, would you just let me talk to you for one moment?"

Roy slowed and allowed First Lieutenant Hawkeye to reach his side, before coolly looking down his nose at her. "If you are here to protest my current plans, Hawkeye, can you return later when I am not trying to gain access to both the prince and our new human... guests?" He said, grimacing slightly at the last word. She met his look with her own stoic glare. He resisted the urge to groan at that look, instead rolled his eyes skyward for a moment. "And if this is about Edward," a slight crease appeared at the corner of her left eye. He'd hit the target. "It can wait until after he has woken up. I have much more important things to do than listen to another long rant about how I should just trust him." He didn't mention the fact that it wouldn't be the rant itself, but the silent disapproval for days after he had won the proceeding argument that he wouldn't appreciate.

She sighed, straightening a feather in her wings. "But sir. Watching him appears to be unnecessary. He has worked for us in the past, and he does work for us now. This is not the betrayal you are misconstruing it to be."

Roy graced her with a disappointed look before speeding his step slightly. She fell into place a step behind him predictably. The medical bay was within sight. "That is beside the point." He returned. "If we cannot have faith in his loyalty then we have nothing to work with to ensure the loyalty and therefore harmony of the general populace. And if we can't have harmony amongst ourselves, how can we obtain peace?" He sighed softly. "fifteen long years of war, Hawkeye, fifteen. Edward is the key to stopping this seemingly endless feud with the humans. The war should have stopped when we re-obtained him, instead the humans fight harder to reclaim something that was never theirs."

He cut off whatever she was about to say with "In any case, the survival of our species depend on the harmony we can convince the populace we have. What happens if they find out that Edward isn't as noble and as trained as we pretend he is? He is not the figurehead they expect us to have, he has not even been trained in anything other than basic flight and survival. What happens when they find this out? The only reason they haven't so far is he is still a novelty to them."

He heard her sigh behind him. "Or, on the opposite side of the coin sir, what happens when they discover you burnt off his leg while he is still a 'novelty.' Or if they discovered that this certain event looked highly planned and even more deliberate."

Mustang's wince was barely noticeable. "You are stepping onto a very weak branch, Lisa." He warned, only a slight undertone of malice gracing his voice. Even the use of her first name demonstrated his building anger.

He heard the flap of her wings and suddenly she was in front of him, brown eyes cold and hard as ice. He met her look square on. "Then please forgive the insubordination, sir." She said in her most professional tone.

A loud smack raced up the corridor as Lieutenant Lisa Hawkeye span on her heel, turned her back to her commander and strolled down the corridor and into the medical bay with no further words. A rather startled Roy Mustang looked after her, before nursing his bright red cheek.

He spat out a curse.

* * *

Cain straddled the plastic hospital chair awkwardly, folding his arms on the back rest. His legs stuck out to each side, making him look slightly comical, and his wings were folded straight up and down along his back so he could actually sit that way. As strange as the position looked, he actually found it rather comfortable; he reflected as he rested his chin on his forearms and looked out through his spectacles at the figure occupying the stark white hospital bed. It seemed strange, he thought, that someone who was usually so powerful and bold could look so small and defenceless. Edward looked like he was in pain, there was sweat drenching his brow and he was nearly paler than the sheets he was resting upon. To add to this image, an IV was in the boy's flesh wrist. Cain sighed, wondering when Edward would regain consciousness. 

His thoughts took a slightly darker turn as the events that put Edward in this situation sprung to mind. A boy of only fifteen to be put through so much wasn't right, but then, Edward was anything but a boy. He had lived alone for a large proportion of his life, had his world turned upside down more than once and had fought so many battles, both individually and as part of a team. If the stories Edward had told were to be believed, he had gone up against one of Earth's most fearsome genetically engineered creatures and come out missing only one arm, when most normal people would have died. That and he had cared for those rabbit-humans, even with the psychological damage that came from them being once his parents.

But, thought Cain, it was hard to remember all this when faced with a new truth. Edward Elric in his weakest form, pale and wrapped in starchy sheets and a thin blanket, hair spilling out of its bounds like a golden halo; he looked the world like a young child. It was easy to see he was missing his leg, merely by the way the sheets of the bed folded around where the bottom half of his left limb should be. Cain found himself pitying the boy, though he would never ever tell Edward that. The door at the end of the ward swung open with a slight rush of air that made Edward subconsciously shiver and the First Lieutenant stepped into the hospital ward.

Her shoes clicked on the linoleum as she approached, and he only stood when she was right beside the bed that Edward was on. Once he had been acknowledged with a small nod, he returned to sitting backwards on the hospital chair. She was his superior, but not my much. She took up a seat, poised on the very edge of Edward's bed, and reached out to brush a strand of flyaway hair out of Edward's closed eyes. There was a look of genuine concern on her face as she folded her hands in her lap. Cain smiled softly, the boy had already worked his way into so many hearts on the ship.

"Report." She said, returning to a businesslike manner, even though her eyes and face remained trained on Ed.

"His condition is stable," He told her, "But he isn't out of the danger zone yet. He lost about a pint of blood while they were returning him to the ship; if he had of arrived at the medical unit even three minutes later than he did he would have died from blood loss." Cain sighed, looking at Hawkeye. There was a crease in the centre of her brow. "He hasn't yet shown signs of infection, but there's always a chance he will obtain one. And of course, he hasn't shown any signs of rousing."

"You know," he continued quietly, "it's a real shame. That poor boy has seen so many incidents that he shouldn't have."

She nodded. "But then again," she replied, "Haven't we all?" He caught her sad smile, before she evened it out, snapping back to business-like ways. "What is the status of the prisoners?"

"Better for wear than his Highness." Feury replied with a weak grin. He tilted his head at the fierce woman. "The humans, we managed to pick up three, are varying from mildly concussed to in a state of shock and panic. One of the poor girls had to be sedated it was that bad. We were worried she might hurt herself. The two dark haired ones have come around, and are currently in that room," he made a vague gesture to the holding room where the prince had had his wings grow in, "awaiting questioning. Mrs. Hughes is currently in there making sure the girl doesn't pass out again."

"I assume she is the concussed, not suicidal, one."

Cain blinked. Had Hawkeye just cracked a joke? And speaking of his superior officers acting oddly, "Err, Lieutenant, if you don't mind my asking, where's the captain?" He had just noticed the lack of Captain Mustang. It was unlike him to be away from the prince's side when the boy was suffering.

Hawkeye disturbed him once more as she actually _grinned_. "Oh, he'll be along." She said in a slightly gloating tone. "He's just taking in a suggestion I gave him, and reconsidering his great battle plan I would assume."

Overcome by the bizarreness of it all and glad he was sitting down, cain shook his head and returned his attention to the comatose figure on the bed. "Who are you?" He asked the lieutenant, "And what have you done with the real Lisa Hawkeye?"

She slipped back into her usual expressionless mask before also returning her focus to the boy on the bed. She said nothing.

Edward scrunched up his nose, made a small keening noise in the back of his throat and settled into a deeper sleep.

* * *

"She _slapped_ you? I mean, honest to trees, _slapped?_ You must have done something pretty low for Hawkeye to sl... Oh ow. Did you realise that you're starting to bruise back here?" 

"Surprisingly, Hughes, you are not helping." Mustang replied dryly and winced as more soothing balm was rubbed into his cheek. The captain and his bespectacled friend were sitting in Roy's chambers. They were brightly lit, with plants lining the walls and a large plush rug in the centre of the floor. Like most of the ship's interior design, they were decorated with mostly wood panelling, with the two men sitting on large wooden chairs with soft leather upholstery. "And for your information, I did not deserve this. She seemed to have the wrong impression about the whole Edward situation and took her frustrations out upon me."

"By 'Edward situation' I assume you mean that event in which it looked like you were out to kill the boy with that flame blast?" Hughes retorted, tilting his face to just the right angle to allow the light to reflect off his glasses lenses. He leaned back on his chair, swinging dangerously, with a grin plastered upon his face. Roy snorted, Hughes only ever hid his eyes to implement one of the masks that the crew of his ship were famous for.

"I was not out to kill him." Roy returned, feeling highly put out. "And I do not know why everyone seems to have taken that stream of thought. Have I not shown by past actions that I wouldn't dream of hurting Edward?" He fingered his cheek where the salve was starting to bring a warm tingle. Wincing as he poked a particularly tender area, he leaned forward. "When have I done anything other than look out for his best interests?"

Hughes looked like he wanted to point out a great many incidents, but restrained, shrugging and saying, "I only call them how I see them, Mustang. You know that." He leaned forward slightly, but still swung dangerously on the chair. "I must say though, that it definitely looked like you were out to harm either him or that girl. Judging by your past record, it's only natural for some members of this crew to assume that you are only looking out for Edward and putting this high amount of effort into him to obtain his position." He rested the chair legs on the ground only long enough to pick up a mug off a small wooden table, take a sip and set it back down again. Then it was back to the rocking position. "I'm not saying that I think you're only after his title, Roy, I do actually know you better than that, but you have made it obvious that you have more invested in this than just seeing the royal family back in power.'

"In any case," He continued, "Holding Alphonse's heritage a secret doesn't exactly instil confidence from the crew members who only know you as the 'captain', not 'Ronald Mustang.' If news of just how Edward lost his legs reached public ears, well..." Hughes trailed off.

Roy nodded. "Mutiny." He stated, taking a sip from his own mug. "On basis of my treason. What a charming fate." He smirked faintly and Hughes frowned at him, the expression not fooling his long time best friend. After a moment of quiet contemplation, Roy came to a conclusion and prepared to tell his friend one of his darkest secrets. "You do realise," he said quietly, "That I love him. Edward. And I'm not exactly talking platonic either."

This caught Hughes off guard, and the man toppled backwards out of the chair, looking up at Mustang with a shocked face. Roy himself was struck with an odd moment of deja-vu as Hughes demanded "What!" in a startled voice. If it had of been any other time, Mustang probably would have laughed at the look on Hughes' face. "You _what_!"

Truth be told, this was the type of reaction Roy had expected, and it took him a long moment to regain his composure and continue. "I love him." He repeated, feeling all the more foolish for saying it. "And I don't know how to explain that because truth be told, no one knows anything substantial about one Edward Elric other than he has red wings and a inferiority complex about his height." Hughes looked like he was about to say something, but Roy cut over the top. "This is exactly why he is so dangerous to us. To me. I searched blindly for him for fifteen years, knowing next to nothing about the conditions he lived in, where his loyalties should lie if I found him. The only time I had seen him was when he was a six month old baby. I didn't even know what colour his eyes were."

Hughes seemed to have problems getting past Roy's declaration. "You... love him. He's half your age!"

Roy winced. "I am aware of this. I am also aware that this is considered paedophilia and homosexuality by most sane people, Hughes. You don't need to remind me of that." His face fell serious as Hughes straightened out his chair and sat down again. "But Hughes. The danger we have is that I actually found him and placed him in charge, no second thoughts. Assumptions are dangerous things, and I assumed he was loyal to our cause. We need him out of a position of power for at this point in time he is a danger to us all as a prince. He may even be king; for we don't know the fate of Hoenheim. However, My feelings on the matter aside, Edward is a danger to every living, breathing avian aboard this vessel."

"How so?" Hughes asked, brow crinkling in thought.

"Edward understands nothing of the Avian way of life and has demonstrated that he maintains at least some bonds to humanity." He frowned. "I do not wish to be the only one who understands just how much danger that boy could place this ship in on a mere whim, Hughes."

Hughes sighed, sitting forward in the chair, mug on the side table long forgotten. "So you would take his position to keep us safe from his desires? That seems a bit extreme, Roy."

With a shake of his head, Roy rapped his fingers against the armrest of his own chair. "not necessarily. First and foremost he must be placed in a situation where I can keep him safe easily. Then, he must be in a position where I can keep the rest of this ship's crew protected. At the moment, even if he hasn't realised it, everything on this ship ultimately answers to him. We are lucky he hasn't realised the full potential of his own situation. If he comes to terms with what being royalty truly embodies anytime soon and chooses to end the war to protect those he loves..." Roy allowed himself to trail off.

"You don't really think he'd sell us out to the humans, do you?" Hughes filled in the gap, shocked. "Edward isn't like that! He wouldn't sell out his ra..."

"Edward's loyalty is not to his race!" Mustang cut off angrily. "It is to the people he knows and feels safe with. He does not act for the good of the avians in well thought out moves, but rather, rashly to protect the ones he loves. He has a warrior's brain, does Edward, not a general's. If he saw a way to end the war and keep the people he cares about safe, he would take it." With a shake of his head, Mustang stood. "And I am worried that if he were to choose such a course of action and ask for my help in the matter, Hughes, I wouldn't be able to refuse him."

"Because of his rank or your feelings?"

Roy gave an enigma of a smile. "And isn't that the million dollar question right there, Hughes."

* * *

.

* * *

_A/n: This is only like... a month late. Sorry guys. I got caught up in the hype of starting uni (my first day is tomorrow!) Christmas, going on holidays and all that._

_Anyways. AWWA is one year old! And to celebrate the birthday of my most successful fanfiction ever, I wanted to hold a little competition. Here's the deal. The avian's mothership needs a name. And I'm not talking about a corny name like "Hope" or "Endless" or something like that, it needs a nice, decent, strong sounding name that would belong to the ship for all eternity._

_So. Here's what I want you to do. I want you to choose a name that you think would suit the ship, post it in your review with a brief (and I do stress brief) reason as to why. Then, I'll get myself and some judges to choose which one we think is the best and the winner will be able to request one fic from me of their choosing. Any pairing, any situation, I will be your writing puppet. (Anything but original characters.) So you in?_

_Here's hoping you'll enter! -shakes a little can marked "Reviews and competition entries"-_


	16. Well, that's unusual

_A/n: Before I get onto fic, I just want to announce the winner of the competition. First of all; I had many, MANY fantastic entries, 43 in all, seeing as many people submitted multiple names. It was VERY difficult, choosing a winner, especially with all the great reasoning behind the choices. _

_It was clearly obvious the amount of thought that went into some of the names. I had names turning up in French, Gaelic, Italian, Japanese, even Native American! All were supported very well and it made it very, very hard for me and my judges to decide a winner._

_However, after much deliberation and head straining, and late nights drinking coffee and pondering which would best suit, the judges and I chose. The winner is... Hui Yan!_

_Their entry White Tenshi Poem won us over, however I did rearrange it so it wasn't a mismatch of languages. Thus, the ship will forever go down in history as: Shiroi Tenshi no Shi_

_Or for those of us who don't really get Japanese, "Poem of the White Angel."_

_Congratulations, Hui Yan! Now, on to the fic!_

* * *

Ling looked about the small room he was seated in with disinterest. He'd passed through a mostly empty (he was bothered by this) medical wing on the way into the broom closet-sized hole he and his captor were contained in. His eyes glittered slightly when he thought of all the methods he could use to play these idiotic creatures and of just how he would get what he wanted. Already, the angels were getting frustrated with his unerringly calm façade and it wouldn't take them long to become highly annoyed with his constant avoiding and non-sequitur answers. He'd only need a few more minutes before he could attempt an escape. Ran was seated next to him, her eyes flickering over every so often as if she was worried. He skilfully avoided answering yet another question and the black haired angel probably would have sighed if he hadn't been nearly as skilled at this game as Ling was. However, Ling didn't miss the way that even through the smirk, the angel's eyebrows pressed slightly closer in annoyance.

"I don't appreciate being lied to." The male angel said, the solitary uncovered globe in the room shining over his face and making him appear hawklike in the gloom. It caught off his black wing feathers and made then sheen almost electric blue to give a spooky effect. Ling knew that captives before would have cracked under the mere presence of this man. Of course, Ling wasn't an ordinary captive. "And I am not so stupid as to assume that you are anything less than important, as one of my most trusted men saw fit to keep you alive." It was amazing how this creature worked, reflected Ling, So far he hadn't detected one lie. Many half truths and omitted details, of course, but no lies. A brilliantly ejected strategy, seeing as most people would assume that there would be many a lie in what the angel was saying and they would act accordingly.

"There must be some mistake!" Ling gave his best false smile, keeping his eyes pressed into slits. Much like this angel's ploy was the half-truth, Ling's was a combination of innocence and over exuberance to deter the intended target from the true subject matter and onto more trivial matters. He gave a half-hearted wave of his arms. "I am but an innocent human soldier, thrown unwillingly into the heat of war and captured by the enemy." His smile faded purposefully and his act took on an air of remorse.

"If you are not to release me and my sister here" Ran flinched, but as the trusted bodyguard she was, didn't dispute his story. "Surely we will suffer a dire fate of starvation and death! Our warrior leaders will not send a search party for low creatures such as us." It was somewhat true. While Ling was highly influential and politically inclined, he still knew that the lower class image he was presenting would mean a total disregard by the earth forces. He almost pitied the blonde girl who had been captured with them. She would not be saved, even if Ling and Ran were.

Ling realised the angel wasn't fooled by his ploy for a second and gained a new respect for his captors. The challenge introduced now in this battle of wits was one he quickly accepted. The smile he gave was as false as his combatants' smirk and he knew that neither was pulling the wool over the eyes of the other.

How fun!

"I will be blunt." The angel said wryly, still playing a game where only half the truth was told. "I do not suffer fools. You will tell me your name and your rank, earth boy, and we shall work our way upwards from there." The angel leant forward ever so slightly and Ling was certifiably impressed. There was a small power play expressed in that movement and it was not lost on him. It also didn't _work_ but that wasn't the point now, was it? The point was to make it obvious that the power plays Ling had already established in his loose and uncaring posture hadn't worked either. He rolled his shoulders in acknowledgement as Ran shifted slightly beside him, fear getting the better of her.

"There is a strange energy in here, Young Master." She said, changing the playing field yet again as she struck the angel's curiosity. The creature's eyes flicked to her for the briefest of moments before returning their focus on Ling, but now Ling could tell where the creature's attention really was. "I think you should tell them."

"My name is Hito." Ling supplied cheerfully, surprising his captor with his sudden willingness to give information. It was a given that the surprise would not last long but for the moment he relished in the ever so slight lifting of eyebrows he induced. Ran stiffened next to him and he knew full well why. She hadn't expected him to use an alias. She hadn't expected him to give any information at all, not even if it was false. It wasn't the way he usually played, but it was a dirty tactic he knew how to use.

"Hito, hmm?" the angel said thoughtfully and Ling felt a strange compression in his head that he would deny later. His smile turned slightly satisfied before settling back on clueless as the angel appeared to accept his name.

"Well," The angel said, his posture radiating of smugness now that he was 'getting somewhere', "Now that we have a name," Alarm bells shot up in Ling's head as the angel failed to use both the alias and the word 'your.' He dismissed it as a quirk of his captor, a way to sniff out a lie and shrugged at the angel. With a sigh, it continued, "What is your military rank?"

"You wear a lot of blue." Ling said, nearly beaming due to the tiny twitch that appeared above the angel's left eye. Ran gave him a small exasperated glance, but he ignored it in favour of relishing in his small victory. Smug satisfaction rolled through him, the game was going well.

"This is my uniform." The angel replied in an even tone. "What is your rank?"

Ploy detected, acknowledged, humoured and dismissed. This angel really _was_ good. With a roll of his eyes Ling dispensed the only true bit of information he was willing to give in this battle. "I am a mechanic." He was slightly put out that the angel had refused to let itself be carried down a different track. He hadn't been willing to part with any more information than necessary until late in the battle. He wouldn't admit this, though, that the angel had won that volley, it went against his nature. His slitted eyes crinkled purposefully. "What about you? What's your job aboard this ship?" He asked partly out of curiosity, partly to take the angel by surprise.

He was rewarded with a slight tightening of the lips, not a particularly satisfying reaction in the grand scheme of things, but better than nothing. "That is none of your concern." It was a statement that boded no argument and Ling almost, almost believed these people had some sort of authority over him.

Thankfully the feeling passed within a few seconds of its arrival.

"Who is your friend here?" His captor asked.

Ling grinned. "That is none of your concern." He replied in a sing-song voice. He leaned back on the stool with a flourish. The childishness of the words had definitely been worth it, his captor appeared to have not expected something that far out of left field, such a beginner's tactic. "However," He continued, slipping into a lie, "The other girl we picked up is very rich and powerful. Why are you wasting time questioning us when you should be questioning her? She could tell you so much more than we could."

There was a moment of struggle on the angel's features, and Ling was almost convinced he had won until with a slight nod of his head, the angel said, "You mean Winry Rockbell, of the human lower classes, an automail mechanic?" The smirk grew pronounced as ling baulked slightly. He hadn't expected the angels to have already questioned the girl. He was hoping to establish a loop in which they would question her and her honest sincerity would lead to more confusion. The angel wasn't finished speaking however. "She is the friend of one orphan, Edward, who informed us quite awhile ago of the non-stature both she and he held in your human society."

"Your 'Edward' is lying!" Ran snapped angrily and Ling could have slapped her. Rule number one of this situation, if you're lying, never accuse anyone else of lying at the same time. "You mentioned he was her friend. Of course he'd lie to protect her from you vultures."

The angel's smirk turned into the kind of victory smile Ling usually wore at the end of a mind game and the creature leaned forward further. This time, ling only just resisted the temptation to lean away. "Edward lives his life based on honesty, little human. All avians do. We do not lie."

There was the unmistakeable click and whir of a weapon warming up and (taking both Ran and Ling by surprise) two angels suddenly appeared in the corner of the room out of thin air. They stood just behind the questioner, only just illuminated up by the singular light of the room. One looked like the creature who had won the verbal duel, the face of this being set into an almost evil scowl, eyes hidden by flashing spectacles. This creature had grey wings, each visible feather taking on a menacing appearance by the way the light hit them. He was the one holding the gun and it was pointed squarely at Ling's chest. Ran took this in and shuffled slightly, but there was no way to protect him if the angel chose to fire.

The other angel was obviously young, probably the same age as Ran. He had a round, gentle face with large grey eyes and an apologetic smile. His wings were only tiny, barely capable of flight and they were a cottony white colour, they appeared to be mostly down, curiously. The angel's hair was a dirty blonde colour and Ling was almost fooled to think that this was a real angel; not an invader, but one from legend. He also knew that within the next few years, the image would fade and it would loose its infancy. He appeared to only be watching the proceedings, but not without his own share of curiosity. Ling caught himself wondering if the angel hadn't been following the mind games from the beginning.

Their interrogator watched as Ling and Ran took in the two new angels and smirked smugly. Taking their attention away from the gun in his comrade's hand, he said quietly, "Now Hito," He leant forward, steepling his fingers. Looking at ling through his eyelashes he continued, "Would you care to inform my good friend over there or your true name?"

Ling winced. "You cheated." He said, slightly sulkily.

* * *

When Edward came to, the first thing he was greeted by was the rather loud and highly annoying sound of angry footsteps just beyond the base of his hospital bed. He made a face, but thought nothing of it before shaking off some initial disorientation (hadn't he just been on Mars?). He blinked a few times to clear his head and when it was significantly less fuzzy and the footsteps were somewhat further away, he tried to sit up.

Thus, Edward Elric made his first mistake of the day.

Searing pain shot through his head, back and left leg, pooling somewhere close to his knee and also around the bridge of his nose. He groaned and fell backwards with an undignified flop and landed on the soft white bedding that Gracia insisted was used for all her patients. The bedding meant he was back aboard the ship, his mind informed him, and not in some human lab. _That's always a good thing._ Edward thought with a small, pained smile before the expression flitted off his face. The footsteps had stopped, and he suddenly became aware through its sudden absence that someone had been muttering under their breath.

There was a pause, and then Gracia said with a slight air of relief, "Oh! You're awake!" She came over to his bed and her face and gentle smile swam into view. Edward blinked as she rested a motherly hand briefly on his forehead. "You gave us quite a scare, Ed. How are you feeling?" Her motherly tone was comforting and Edward found the pain in his head receding slightly.

"Sore." Ed answered truthfully and she smiled, pressing her hand down harder. It took more of the pain away and Edward realised her special ability. She could heal. "My leg hurts most though. But only up to my knee. The rest of it feels fine."

He couldn't be bothered lying to her at the moment, seeing as she would see straight through them anyway. He did notice her wince when he mentioned his leg, but didn't question it, instead sorted it as something to figure out later.

There was an awkward pause in which Gracia smoothed down his hair, running her dainty fingers through it. The sensation was relaxing almost, and Edward felt himself beginning to drift off to sleep again. He looked up at her face through quickly closing eyes and she smiled at him warmly.

He was about to say something to her as he fought to stay awake, but the next moment was punctuated by what sounded like loud, angry swearing in a voice Edward didn't recognise, combined with what seemed to be Mustang's ferocious replies. The yelling originated (Edward discovered as he turned his head to one side) from the small room in which he'd first gained his wings. Gracia gave an angry sigh.

"Oh for goodness' sake!" She said irritably, standing and striding quickly to the other side of the hallway. Her footsteps and body positioning reflected her annoyance as she clicked her way over the linoleum floor Edward worked his way up to his elbows, ignoring the slight twinges of pain he experienced and followed her with his eyes. She rapped on the door in front of her smartly, before opening it a little harder than she probably should have and placing her head inside. "Captain, Maes, Alphonse, respective human guests. Please, this is a hospital wing you are currently in and I would like to remind you yet again that there are sick people just outside your door. Please keep your voices down."

A murmur of apology floated through the open doorway and Gracia's expression softened so much that Edward could see it. "Sir," She said, returning to her normal tone of mother and doctor rolled together, "He is awake."

He followed her progress back around the room, she checked up on a few things, occasionally looking over to him with a smile. She stopped over the only other occupied bed, checking the occupant's statistics with a slight crinkle in her forehead. She straightened out the sheets of the bed as best she could while it was occupied. "Poor girl."

"What happened?" Edward asked curiously, and Gracia baulked slightly.

"Post battle trauma. She's sedated at the moment, but they should wear off soon. Then we'll see if I need to put her on another lot or not. It's not the best solution, granted, but it keeps her calm enough so she can catch up on some much needed sleep." She made a face. "The darling was slightly undernourished and bordering on exhaustion when they brought her in to me. I wonder what she could have been doing to put herself in this state." The concern was evident in Gracia's voice as the woman moved away from the bed and to the supply cupboards on the far side of the room. He moved to sit up as to better keep her in his line of sight when he noticed something highly odd about his leg. He couldn't get below his knee to respond for some reason.

"What the..?" He said, own brow crinkling as he sat up fully. He looked down the blankets to where his leg was misbehaving and his confusion made itself more prominent. The bed sheets bunched at his leg joint and gave the illusion that about half of his left leg was mission. Blinking curiosity and letting out a slightly confused noise, Edward pulled the sheets straight, and when that failed to work, casually flicked them off his legs so he could see the problem. His eyes fell onto a stump wrapped in fresh white linen. It took him a moment to register just what he was seeing, and slowly, very slowly, uncontrollable tremors began to run over his body.

"Oh dear." Gracia said, rushing over from the supply cabinet on the far side of the room. Edward didn't register her movements, his vision taken up by, and his mind focused on the stark white bandages wrapped around where his leg should have been. He opened his mouth in an attempt to deny what he was seeing, but something firmly lodged in his throat making it impossible for him to form even a nonsensical sound, let alone a word.

His body was shuddering now, the tremors having escalated violently until they wracked his frame with their force and he slouched forward, in on himself, his arms coming to wrap protectively around his chest as his gaze remained fixed on his missing limb. It flooded his vision, mocking him in the cruelest way it possibly could. His voice returned suddenly. "No." He said in a whisper so quiet it was hard to tell if he'd said anything or not. "No. No. No. No, no, no, no, no, no." With every consecutive denial, his voice rose until he was shouting. His conscious thought was slowly being replaced by an echoing scream as his body thrashed beyond his ability to control it.

He wasn't aware of the door that flew open at the end of the hall or of Gracia's quick and precise movements to the cabinets where he would have recognised the sedatives were held if he had of been in a stable state. He didn't hear the frantic clicking of familiar shoes over the linoleum towards him. Nor did he register the fact that medicine bottles were shaking in their holders and that bed pans all around the room were rattling in time with the shudders racing across his skin. Blue crackles of electricity spiralled all around him, but he didn't see them nor the way one struck the needle Gracia had been coming towards him with, shattering it into a thousand small pieces and throwing Gracia back a few feet in the process. She stood, shaky and slightly dazed, but Edward wasn't concentrating on her in the given moment and missed this.

Someone, somewhere in the ward, was screaming.

Strong arms wrapped around hi from behind, and he was suddenly pressed into a planar chest covered in a thick layer of ship-regulation cloth. He thrashed violently and tried to escape those arms but they clung to him, refusing to let him go as a voice softly whispered to him, "Calm yourself, Edward." The voice was slightly shaken, but authoritative and sliced through the screaming in the air and his head like a knife through soft cheese. Edward let the arms wrap around him then, and let himself be held. He felt almost safe there, like the arms were taking away all of his pain and slowly, he felt himself begin to relax in the embrace.

The shivers running through his body slowed and calmed after a few minutes, but Edward remained in those arms like they were his lifeline. He remained there for a long while, looking at the stump of his left leg and coming to terms with the fact he had lost yet another limb.

* * *

Roy held Edward to him like the young man was some kind of china doll as slowly his prince's shudders rolled to a halt. It had been in the moments when Edward had shown his unusual quirk through being able to send out lightning that Mustang had managed to get close to him, he'd slid up onto the hospital bed and hugged Edward from behind in an attempt to prevent people from getting electrocuted. He'd never seen such a reaction before, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the stimulus that Edward could even use it, or if it was the stimulus that was the reason he couldn't' control it. Ed's breathing hitched and he gave what could only be called a cough (but wasn't really one.) before settling back down. Gracia, once assured that her patient was as well as he could be left the bedside to clean up the mess made by the shattered syringe. Aware on the perplexed expressions that every member of the room wore, and the presence of the prisoners, Roy faced an inner struggle. Take command and order control, or comfort the young man in his arms. He leant back slowly and by default dragged Edward with him until his back was pressed against the headboard, Ed's head resting on his solar plexus. The young man's shoulders were in Roy's lap and his wings were folded outward in a slightly awkward position, but Edward didn't seem to mind too much. He voiced no complaint in any case.

Once he was sure that Edward was secure, he loosened his grip on the teen, bringing one hand up away from the hug to thread it through long, blond hair, currently spilled out over Roy's stomach and hips. "Don't" Edward croaked out, moments before Roy's hand made contact with the liquid blond, "push your luck."

With a chuckle, Roy returned his hand to its earlier position in the loose embrace. "I wouldn't dream of it, Princess." He whispered for Ed's ears only before turning back to the onlookers. "Hughes." He said, and if it had been any other situation, he would have laughed at the way the man jumped suddenly to attention from his open-mouthed pose. "Escort the prisoners who are currently able to be moved into the holding chambers. I wish to further question them later, but at this point in time I have more important matters to attend to." He didn't add that he couldn't bear to be around the black haired male one much longer without throttling the boy.

Hughes nodded with a small "Yessir." But there was a strange look on his face as he said it. He jerked his head at the two bound prisoners, reaching out to snag the male one's arm when neither would move. Hughes attempted to drag the creature away, but it was staring at Edward with a look of wonder and would not move. Instinctively Roy tightened his grip and sent the annoying creature a scathing look, but the human took a step towards the bed, breaking free of Hughes' hold in the process.

There was a moment in which nothing was said as Edward and the human locked eyes, then, "Gabriel." The human said, and for the first time since he had been on the ship, the creature's eyes opened to more than a slit. Confirmed in the narrow, black gaze so like Roy's own was what Roy had suspected from the start. The human standing before him was a conman and a good one at that. "You are. The archangel Gabriel."

Edward's reaction to what was being said was shocking to say the least. The young man flinched violently away, throwing himself into Roy's chest and pressing against it as if he could push through Roy and hide on the man's other side. Edward, still high strung from his last emotional outburst began shuddering once more, wings curling around himself in an instinctual display of fright. "I don't know what you're talking about." He whispered, eyes wide and fearful, "I'm Edward."

Gracia had returned to the bedside and looked torn between helping Roy calm Edward and scolding the human for his improper bedside manner. The human took a further step towards the bed, and even though his hands were visibly restrained, this act served to make Edward's wings curl tighter around him as the prince let out a small, frightened whimper. Edward was putting a great deal of stress on his injured leg, which Mustang tried to convey to him by briefly tightening the embrace past the comfortable point before loosening it again. It was too late however, and the white linen became slightly stained with red. "Hughes!" Roy barked at the same time as the human once again spoke.

"What did you do with the failures, Gabriel?"

Edward flinched, even through the shudders that were wreaking havoc on his body. I don't know what you're talking about." Roy suddenly found his face was marred with a deep scowl.

"Hughes, get him _out_ of here!" he snapped, but the man wasn't listening, focusing his attention on the 'conversation' that Edward and the human were having. He looked amazed and shocked, along with sinfully curious. "HUGHES!" Mustang tried again, to no avail.

"We've been looking all over for you, Gabriel. You've caused quite the stir." The human continued. "How amazing it is that you managed to make your way back to these bastard birds." There was an angry ripple that passed through every avian presently in the room, even Edward, which came as a slight surprise to Roy. "We all knew you were clever, a genius even, but how did you figure it out?" The human shook his head. "That is what I'm having trouble trying to comprehend here, Gabriel. _How did you figure it out?_"

Edward's shakes doubled in quantity "Please, I know no Gabriel. I'm Edward Elric." But there was a hint of pleading to his voice now, and Roy became pointedly aware that Edward had at least some clue as to what was going on.

No one noticed the figure get out of the other occupied bed in the ward.

The human sighed. "Gabriel," He said almost patiently, "Where are the rabbits?"

"Hughes, get him _out_ of here!"

"My father told me everything about you, Gabriel. About how those two foolish humans thought you could be raised and integrated into human society. How your wings were cut off while you were still only a mere infant." He sighed. "About how they insisted that you were 'human' and capable of 'human thought' and emotion. About how they thought it was wrong for you to be used in the way we intended."

"Of course, they were punished, weren't they Gabriel. They were made less than human, so you could all live together as a 'family'." Edward's fear was slowly turning into anger as his thoughts made the jump that Roy's already had. This human was talking about the Carltons.

"Don't you dare talk about my Mum and Dad like that." Edward snarled, the adrenaline pumping through his system starting to prime him for a fight. "They're better than you'll ever be. And cut this Gabriel crap, I'm Edward Elric!" accompanying his statement was a loud thunk and the human slumped, revealing the girl Edward had insisted was his friend on Mars' surface. In one hand, she held a spanner that Roy was unaware she had in her possession, her other hand was placed on her hip angrily. Her face was twisted into a horrible expression.

Shocked silence reigned supreme for nearly a minute before Edward cautiously asked, "Winry?"

The girl's previously closed eyes snapped open, and everyone was greeted with a frightening flash of angry steel blue. "Damn straight." She said, flipping her waist length hair over one shoulder.

"Young Master!" The other human girl cried, darting forward and wrapping her arms around the unconscious creature's form. She looked up at Winry and nearly snarled. "You killed him!" She said, overcome by a moment of panic.

With a roll of her eyes, the standing human slipped her spanner back to wherever-it-had-come-from and focused her gaze on the dark haired girl. "Don't be an idiot, Ran. I just knocked him out. There's a difference and he deserved it for what he was doing to Ed."

"I don't fucking need your help, Winry." Edward interjected sulkily, from where to Roy's surprise he was still nestled in the older Avian's embrace. He was beginning to tense; however, And Roy thought it was best to move before he faced dire consequences. Unwinding his arms from the boy, Roy slid out from underneath him and stood near the bed. "I was perfectly fine on my own."

"Yup. Because you can really move on your own right now, and you would have done something stupid and dangerous _again_ if I hadn't stepped in." The girl replied effortlessly and Roy made a face at her. How dare just a mere human be so comfortable around the prince of all avians?

Roy sighed, deciding to restore some sort of stability to the current situation. "Hughes, escort all the humans to the holding cell..."

"Winry stays here." Roy baulked, and all heads turned towards Edward where he looked them over with a resolute expression. "I don't care where you put the other two, but Winry stays here." Roy sighed. He couldn't refuse an order from someone who outranked him, as much as he would have liked to.

"Hughes, escort humans B and C to the holding bay. Alphonse, stay here, watch over Human A and if she even looks about to make a wrong move, you have full permission to put her into a stasis illusion." Roy was pulling out the big guns. Stasis illusions were like locking the person inside their own mind for as long as the Elric who initiated it chose to keep them there. The person wouldn't even realise they had been taken out of the real world and that everything they were doing was part of an illusion, they were that effective. Edward made a face, and so did the girl.

"I have a name, mister big-shot. I'm Winry."

Roy cast her a brief assessing look, but eventually continued on as if she hadn't spoken. "Edward, of course, will remain here, as will I. Gracia, if you would busy yourself elsewhere for the time being?" Hughes stood as he was speaking and hefted the limp body from the ground, jerking his head in the direction of the hospital wing's door while looking at the other girl. She stood resolutely and followed behind him as if it were the last thing she wanted to do, but would not leave the male.

Gracia still hadn't moved. Roy raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm sorry sir." She said quietly. "Edward is bleeding. If I may attend to that first?"

"Got it!" The remaining human said, placing a pressure over the red bandages. "I'm somewhat of a doctor myself, so I know how to stop bleeding." Roy winced in sympathy at her roughness and Edward grimaced as if he were almost used to it. In any case, it got the job done, so Roy sent a pointed look at Gracia and she sighed and moved off.

She headed into the room Roy had been in earlier, presumably to convert it back from the makeshift interrogation room it had become.

Roy glanced at Edward for a moment, then at the others remaining in the room. The human was still applying pressure to Edward's leg, looking after him with a familiarity that almost made Roy's chest ache. Al was watching her like a hawk to make sure she made no move to hurt his brother or commander.

It was the human, surprisingly, who broke the silence. "Ed," She said without removing her hands from the wound, "You have a whole lot of explaining to do."

Loathe as he was to admit it, Roy actually agreed with the human on this account. "She's right, though she should know her place." He glared at her and she poked her tongue out at him, before returning her concentration to what she was doing. "Edward, if you would start at the beginning and take us through?"

Alphonse nodded. "Yeah, Brother. Care to explain what's going on?"

The human girl did a double take. "Screw the beginning!" She said, lifting one hand off the wound and pointing at Alphonse. She looked directly into Edward's eyes before continuing. "Explain what he just said first."

* * *

**End part 2**

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* * *

**

_A/n: Well. That's probably the best chapter I've written in a while. Hopefully this means I'm getting out of my rut and back into the swing of things. S'also the longest._

_Now, before I get rants on how 'OOC' Ed seems in this chapter, let me just explain something. Ed is clinically depressed in this fiction and he's already shown he's been prone to fits of instability when he had his breakdown. Also, he just woke up from having his leg burnt off so he's allowed to be a bit angry. The second fit is basically because he was still so high strung from the first._

_And anyway. Things I have learnt from this chapter: One. Winry is SMART. And AWESOME. Of course, I already knew this, but I didn't know just HOW smart._

_And two: ...My Ling muse is evil. And this is my interpretation of Ling. He's not his usual scatterbrained self, because I think he's really very, very smart underneath all that. Okay. I'm gonna shut up now._

_Leave a review? -Shakes her little tin can-_


	17. Ties we break

There was silence in the room for a moment as Edward gathered his thoughts. "When I was young," he began thoughtfully, weighing each word, and darting his eyes about the room as if not quite sure who he should look at, "People, a lot of them, used to come to my apartment. I didn't realise it at the time, but looking back now, most of them I only saw once or twice and they were obviously studying me." He made a face, "It was one never-ending stream of doctors, blood tests, endurance tasks, problem solving... some of them would just come to talk to Ana and Nick, but they would watch me closely as I played games. I remember they used to scare me, with the way they never seemed to focus anywhere else but me." He gave a weak laugh. "Most kids would love that kind of attention." He paused, wondering if he should go on.

Winry opened her mouth to interrupt, however, Mustang held up his hand warningly and the girl closed it again. Edward gave Mustang a slightly appreciative look before sighing and continuing. "I didn't. Mostly because I thought they had confused me with someone else. They always called me Gabriel.'

"It didn't make sense to me at all until I was about six. I walked in on Ana and Nick talking about something called the Gabriel Project. They seemed worried about it, but when I asked them what it was, all discussion on the matter stopped. I don't know what the project is; only that it was something to do with me."

"Which you picked up from that boy." Mustang filled in seamlessly. Edward nodded at him and Winry bristled.

"Ed, what the hell are you talking about? Gabriel project? Scientists? Would someone fill me in here?" She exclaimed, looking at him threateningly.

Fearing for his well-being, Edward answered her. "I don't know that much about it either, Winry. But it seems to me that Ana and Nick knew something that they couldn't tell me." He grinned weakly. "Three guesses as to what it was." He gave a weak half flap of his wings to make it obvious. "I had all but forgotten about the doctors and tests until that person brought it up."

Mustang scowled at the door through which the young man had gone. "And who is that young person, Edward?" His tone was not unkind, but it still sent a slight shiver over Edward's skin, almost like he was being judged. Alphonse rested his hand on Edward's arm and received a grateful look for the thought.

"His name is Ling Yao." He missed Winry's startled look as he watched Roy for the man's reaction. He received a nod in return. "No doubt, you already knew that though." He said with a slight bitter tang.

Winry was thoroughly lost. "So... you knew Ling?" She asked with a slightly confused tone. "But I don't see how that would work. I mean, I only met him a few months ago when we were at the training camp."

Edward winced.

"Yes, I knew Ling." He said to cover it up. "He was a playmate of mine when we were both young. We never really got on; he would try and take command of the situation in his backwards, manipulating way and hated it when I caught him at it." He said quietly. "Mustang, he's the son of the richest man on Earth."

The angel in question nodded. "I gathered he was somewhat important from the battle. His unwillingness to answer our questions proved tricky, however."

Edward snorted. "Shows what you know. Social standing had nothing to do with it. You said to take someone out as the signal and I did. I just refuse to kill." He hoped that remark stung on the man, he truly did. Once again, he failed to notice the shocked look of realisation on Winry's features. "He's one of the most prominent heirs to the fortune as well, so he'll probably prove valuable to you lot."

Winry coughed, and this caught Edward's attention. "You were... a part of that battle? Not just watching?" She seemed crestfallen.

"I am an avian." Edward said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and this time he caught her wince.

"I had hoped..." She said, and then shook herself. "No, it's alright. Let's just keep going with the story?" Edward made a face at her but didn't press the issue. Winry would tell him what was wrong if it was truly important.

"Anyway. Nothing really happened to me in those sessions so that's pretty much all that I know on the matter." Mustang gave him a calculating look, but it appeared the man trusted him, for Edward didn't feel the familiar pressure behind his eyes that meant the man was extracting information from his thoughts.

"What about the name Gabriel? Why did it give you such an adverse reaction?" The man asked instead.

"To be honest, I don't know." Edward replied. "It hit some sour note, but I'm not sure why. There's too much about this that I don't understand. The thing that bugs me the most, is why did Yao care what happened to Ana and Nick?"

Mustang 'hmm'ed. "There's always the possibility that..." He collected himself and shook his head. "No, it is too far-fetched. Why would anyone go to that much effort?" A thoughtful frown crossed the man's features and for the first time, Edward realised that he wasn't hiding behind his mask. Mustang was showing what he was thinking.

That shouldn't have made Edward's breath catch.

"Well," Said Winry, breaking the uncomfortable moment for Edward. "I don't remember any of this. As far as I know, the first time I met Ling was a few months ago." She said it matter-of-factly, in such a way that suggested that Edward was wrong. Displeasure flickered across Al's features and Edward shook his head slightly at his little brother, warning him against incurring Winry's wrath. "Seeing as I've lived next to you for most of my life, you'd think I'd remember at least some of these visits if you can." She said to Edward.

A curious sort of look came to Mustang's face then, Edward thought that it must have been because some sort of light bulb went on in the man's brain. It flickered across his face for an instant and then died. Alphonse eventually broke the settling silence. "Brother remembers because he is an avian. But that doesn't make full sense, because for Brother to remember..."

"...The people who visited him would have had to change Princess' life significantly." Edward flinched at the name, but didn't explode for fear of injuring his leg. "They couldn't have been random scientists who were merely studying Edward for their own benefit."

Edward's smile was weak when it broke his features. "Yeah, you're right Mustang." He said quietly, with a sort of dark humour. "They weren't just your ordinary doctors and scientists. They were the ones who were doing the genetic research for the government." His smile twisted into an ugly grimace.

"Oh... Ed..." Winry breathed, removing her hands from his wound and picking up the fresh linen dressing on the bed. "You can't possibly mean..."

Edward looked at her briefly, then turned to Mustang, meeting black eyes with a dark ferocity. "They were the ones who made Ana and Nick. They were the ones who unleashed a monster on the streets and destroyed the life of Nina Tucker."

The ward fell silent, for no one could express their feelings at this dark statement. It was broken finally by Edward as he said quietly, "I'd say they changed my life pretty significantly, wouldn't you, Mustang?"

The man couldn't find the words to answer.

* * *

"Okay, Ed, they're gone! Let's get out of this place." Winry tugged at the injured boy's arms after the two angels had left. Edward had insisted she stay with him again, and while she caught herself wondering why they were actually listening to him, she was also thankful for the opportunity. "When we get back home, I can get you an automail leg." She said to tempt him.

He smiled weakly at her. "Are you blind, Win'?" He asked, somewhat rudely, "I can't exactly go home." He flapped the monstrous red wings he'd picked up somewhat ruefully and she scowled at him, feeling a hot rush of anger at the fact he thought she would care.

"So? It's not like Granny and the others will care that you're an angel, is it?" She shrugged. "It's not like you can help what you are. We all don't care, and just because these angels kidnapped you doesn't mean you can't go home with me."

He stiffened. "I can't go back." He said quietly and coldly.

Winry made a face at him. "Ed, they won't care. How many times do I have to tell you?" She smiled. "You can't help the fact you're an angel any more than I can't help the fact I'm a human." Her smile grew. "Granny will be so happy to see you again."

The air around the boy grew a degree colder. "I can't, Winry."

"Why not? They'll all understand, Ed, just you wait and see!" She didn't understand why he wouldn't say yes, it was perfect! She had found him, and now she could take him home again. Sure, she hadn't found him how she had expected, but the wings had nothing to do with who Ed was. "I mean, you're practically a human anyway, you've lived as one and you're fighting for our side."

He gave her a small, almost miserable look. She faltered.

"You are... fighting for our side, aren't you Edward?" worry overtook her. It was probably groundless; Edward wouldn't betray anyone, let alone the humans. Not for something as stupid as a pair of wings.

He sighed, and straightened in his hospital bed. She had never seen him look so downcast, like he was about to do something he wished he didn't have to. "Winry..." He said, and his tone put her on edge immediately. "Do you think that if they kidnapped me, they would bother to take the rabbits?"

Something froze inside of her. He couldn't be saying what she thought he was.

_But it makes sense, doesn't it?_ A nasty voice inside her commented, _The way he was acting the day he went missing. You've never seen him so excited before, have you?_ She remembered the half-smile on his face that day, the way he appeared to be bubbling with something barely contained.

"No." She said forcefully. "They kidnapped you!" But she didn't even believe it herself anymore.

He shook his head and something in her snapped. "Edward, you can't be serious!" She growled at him, "Stop joking and let's go."

"I'm not going, Winry. I belong here. Can't you see it?"

She didn't believe what she was hearing. "No, I can't." She said coldly, eyes narrowing. "And do you know why? Because I can't see you giving up Granny and me and Nina for these winged bastards!" She had started speaking in a whisper, but ended in a shout. "Are you seriously going to give up Nina for some overgrown birds who think they're better than us?"

Edward smiled as if he deserved the verbal beating. This served to infuriate her more. "I am one of those 'overgrown birds', Winry. Look at me." His voice remained calm and almost sad. "I belong here. I have a brother." He smiled at her, and it made her feel sick in her stomach. "A real brother, Winry. Do you know how amazing it is to have him?"

"A brother? A BROTHER? You call that bird out there a brother?" She glared at him, pointing her finger square at his chest. "Edward, your place is at home with us. Not with the enemy!"

Edward growled. "Insult me all you want, Winry, but leave Al out of this." He said quietly, acid lining his words. "My family is here. My responsibility is here. I belong here."

"You are NOT my enemy, Edward. I refuse to believe it!"

He sighed. "Winry, unless you've had a sudden change of heart and are planning to join the Avians... then, I am."

Tears blurred her vision and cascaded down her cheeks as she turned to run out of the room. She still heard him say to someone she had previously not seen, "Put her with the others." There was a noise of agreement and his oh-so-familiar sigh. "I had hoped she would understand."

* * *

Her eyes were still red and puffy later, as she made herself relatively comfortable in the small holding cell in the bowels of the alien ship. Sniffing slightly, she made herself as small as possible on the cot-like bed and looked at her knees grimly.

"Isn't it amusing," a voice said from across the corridor, and she looked up to meet eyes with Ling Yao. He was smirking. "How little regard Humanity can have for its own kind?" Winry scowled at him, returning her gaze to her knees. She suddenly didn't care what this person thought; even though for the past few months they had become good friends. Edward was still at the forefront of her thoughts, the way he had looked as he broke her dreams of finding him and going back home to escape the war. A familiar laugh came from the cell across from hers and she heard Ling move forward.

She could see him in her mind's eye. His hands would be wrapped about the bars; he would be smirking smugly at her in triumph. She hugged her knees to her chest and curled up as tight as she possibly could, falling to her side on the small cot. The cells were clean, she noted, then wondered where the thought had come from. She could still feel Ling's squint-eyed stare pressing into her back. She wondered where Ran was for a moment before deciding she didn't care.

"Someone can be loyal to humanity for years, as their life dictates," Ling drawled, and Winry winced, trying to block his voice out. "But then, the human heart flutters madly once, and they turn away from it all, their family, their friends... everything really. And what for? Because they want something. They want to find something or someone as the case may be." He laughed; it was not a pleasant sound.

Winry was trying her hardest not to listen to the person on the other side of the hall. The words were still puncturing her conscious though; settling heavily in her gut and making her feel sick. Ling spoke in riddles at the best of times, but now that he ha given up all pretence of being an idiot, the riddles were ten times worse, and she couldn't help but listen.

"Don't you think it strange, Miss Rockbell, what the human heart is capable of?" She thought she heard his voice rise in enjoyment but she couldn't be sure. "How is it that it can blindly lead us pathetic creatures into battle? How can it betray every sane thought and desire on a mere whim? The heart... I fail to understand it really. It can forget revenge that has been burning in someone's gut for years and replace it with the deception that is the concept of love. It turns the smartest of people into fools." A dry snort issued from his cell. "For, even in a relationship where one of the parties has no hope of ever winning over the other, the heart will still hold on to a flimsy hope that there is a chance. Even when affection will never be shared even in the slightest, the heart continues to hope, continues to fog the mind and fool the senses into something almost like belief. The heart will still love on unhappily; still blindly follow the cause of all its pain and suffering like a little lost lamb being led to the slaughter."

Winry fought the tears that threatened to spill from her. She couldn't fight back the sob, however, and it escaped, half strangled, from her. Ling was getting to her, as much as she hoped he wouldn't. His words hit her, each one like a physical blow. He was trying to break her, the way she had seen him break others, and worse still, she didn't know why.

"The heart leads us to abandon our heritage and our roots, Winry Rockbell." She looked up briefly and found him cheerfully grinning back at her, his eyes pressed closed as if he wasn't trying to tear her soul to shreds with his words. "It would make even a normally bright young girl's ambitions for family vengeance fall to nothing as she betrays her race in a moment of passionate fury. Which, for some people would be disappointing because I know they are smarter than that."

She frowned at him. "Are you trying to tell me you believe I'll abandon the human cause for Edward?"

Ling graced her with his laugh again. It was a light, boyish sound that chilled her. "I was merely commenting on the fickleness of humanity and the heart, Winry Rockbell. But I do request that you remember why you joined the military next time you wish to follow it. Will you do that for me?" He unwound his arms from the bars and sat back on his heels, glancing at her once before heading to the other side of his cell to lie on his cot.

Winry shivered and curled in on herself once more. More than anything she wanted to talk to Ed, but the thought of him on the angel's side chilled her more than Ling's words or laugh ever could. The memory of scarlet wings, the same colour of blood haunted her vision, stemming from either side of him on the hospital bed.

She straightened out suddenly, realising something that nearly made her heart stop. All angels, she realised, were her enemy. Even Edward. Ling was right.

Sobbing and laughing hysterically, Winry realised something she had always known at least subconsciously, Edward was the one who had attacked the Mars training camp.

Edward was the source of the fire in her nightmares.

* * *

He was also sitting up in a hospital bed at that moment, slowly seething with silent anger at one Ling Yao. His earlier fear of the teen was mutating into a simmering, burning hatred that stemmed partly from his own inability to do something about it, being hospital bed bound as he was. He sighed as thinking about Ling took him to thinking about Winry and the unfavourable reaction she had had to the news he gave her. What had she expected, after all? He had found a place where he belonged and he wasn't going to give that up to fulfil her desires of being a family again. He had a new family. Al, Hughes and Gracia, hell, even Mustang were people he both looked up to and respected, and as much as he missed Nina and Auntie Pinnako, they wouldn't accept him for who he was now, no matter what Winry thought.

He wasn't about to cut off his wings and become a human again. Not when he'd tasted flight and seen the main hall. Not when he had everything he needed within the ship. Winry would probably want nothing more to do with him now anyway, now that she knew where he wanted to stay.

He was disturbed by the fact that that didn't upset him as much as it probably should have. It scared him, but the fear stemmed more from a lack of familiarity in the fact there would be no Winry to fall back on, rather than that he would loose her as a friend. He was somewhat shocked to discover he had already resigned himself to loosing her when he chose to go with Mustang that day.

Al was currently by his bedside, watching over him with the eyes of a hawk and talking to Cain Feury, someone Edward really only knew in passing. From what he'd seen of the avian, he seemed likeable enough and Mustang valued him enough. Edward didn't know what they were discussing, they were speaking in what he had come to recognise as the avian dialect. He also didn't particularly care, his thoughts too occupied with other things.

His thoughts, strangely, found their way to Ana and Nick. He wondered how they were and was overtaken by such a sudden and strong desire to go see them that he nearly choked. He wanted to talk to them in the way he used to, before all this had happened, before he'd had to choose family over friendship, before he'd been truly aware of what he was. He played with the flamel around his neck, rubbing his fingers over its near-smooth snake and the slightly rounded points of the crown and cross. Ana and Nick had known he was an avian, he was sure of that now. Had they cared for him anyway? Had they loved him like a son? Or had they just been fulfilling their appointed role in the government syndicate in place to keep him tethered? He couldn't believe the last of them, no matter how hard he tried.

Not for the first time, he wondered why they had been chosen for the DIGIT trials. Now, more than ever, it didn't make sense. If they had been loyal to the government and looked after him, while watching him, it didn't make sense for them to be forced to participate. It would mean the Government would loose the leverage they had over him in an instant. With Ana and Nick gone, Edward had a free reign, as he had proved when mustang contacted him.

If Ana and Nick had still been human, he might have never come with Mustang that day. He shuddered, and was ashamed at the fact that that thought scared him more than the thought of two seemingly innocent people being forced to become genetic mutants. He let out a growl of frustration.

The two people talking above him glanced down worriedly.

"Brother?" Alphonse asked, then seeing his dark look continued, "What's wrong, Brother?"

"Al, let's go visit the rabbits."

Alphonse blinked, and then frowned. "Brother, you're not well enough. Your leg has to heal over before you can do anything like that."

_How do you explain to your little brother that you just need something familiar that isn't out to kill you for betraying it?_ He thought sadly.

"I don't care, Al." He said quietly. "I just need to be with them now." He couldn't meet his brother's gaze out of fear he'd betrayed another person he cared about. He also knew the answer he would find in those grey eyes would be no.

* * *

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* * *

_A/n: Okay, guys, can I have a moment of your time? _

_I've noticed some of you are complaining about the rating of this fic. You seem to have made the assumption that I'm a NICE person who has rated her NICE fic too high._

_...BAHAHAHAHA_

_Okay. I've calmed down now. But it's come to my attention that you all think that my fic is going to stay at the rating level it is at now. It is NOT. Ask anyone who knows how it's going to end. (There are... four of us I think.) The ending lives up to the rating that this fic has had from the start._

_That said, anyone who does not like violence, blood and gore, please, walk away from this fiction right now and imagine yourselves a nice ending full of no war, happiness and all that stuff that would make me fart bunnies of the non-mutant kind. From this point on (Well, not quite this point. One more chapter until the nasty stuff) things are going to get awfully messy. Loose ends will be tied. Characters from the first few chapters will make a re-appearance. It will NOT be pleasant._

_To give you an idea of what it will be like, I hate me for it, and I'm the one who wrote it._

_That said, you always need to trust the author on what he/she believes the rating will be AT THE END OF THE FIC. At this point, I agree. It's hardly bloody at all. It doesn't deserve the rating. But I know what's coming. I know that that rating will be fully justified in a few chapters' time. If you have further complaints about the rating, wait until the end of the fiction to voice them._

_Thankyou. Leave a review? -tin rattle-_

_PS: contest winner, can you please email me? I need to write you something, don't I?_

_PPS: in response to other Reviewers, Ling and Ran Fan (Ran Fun depending on your translation) are MANGA ONLY CHARACTERS. They come in in Volume 8 of the manga, where the anime splits off from the plotline and takes a completely different track to the manga. The Fullmetal Alchemist Manga is NOT finished yet, so if you've seen the end of the series and want more FMA, I recommend the manga wholeheartedly. _

_Oh, and for the reviewer who thought I was skydark: I have never been more flattered in my life than to be put in the same league as her, but I'm not skydark, my LJ SN is hakuneko. Skydark is so much better than I am._


	18. Love and betrayal

Edward, much to his disappointment and frustration, was bedridden for the next three days. This (though he was loathe to admit it,) was as much to do with his own flat refusal of another growth enhancement (this had been in the form of a rather amusing scene involving flying bedpans and many sulky looks) but was mostly to do with what Edward considered fascist doctor's orders. Much to his dismay, he had been prevented from visiting the rabbits almost immediately after expressing a wish to do so, and even though the arguments about their un-sterile living conditions and the effects that could have on his still healing wound were cogent, they left Edward rather annoyed at the world as a whole.

Therefore, bored and grumpy, Edward passed the days thinking of anything he could do to prevent himself from becoming moody and irritable, and was failing miserably, even by his own standards. More than once, he'd forced people out of the hospital ward for small things like disturbing him while he read avian history or forgetting to not give him milk with his meals. His leg still hurt him severely, and there was little to take his attention away from this fact in the sterile ward, no matter how much he begged Gracia to provide him with something interesting or useful to do.

These factors, however, were only a part of why Edward was so dispirited. The main part, the greatest part stemmed from frustration on two sources. Winry hadn't come to visit him since she had angrily stormed out of the wing, and Mustang had barely left his side with each successive visit becoming at the same time both calmer and more uncomfortable. Edward couldn't help but feel that the man was hiding something and this left him trying to puzzle out what for hours on end.

The captain of the Shiroi Tenshi no Shi was at his bedside now, sitting in near silence, only the occasional ruffle of his feathers or shifting of material giving away he was even there. Mustang was looking over reports, giving angry sighs or noises of assent every so often. Edward frowned, glancing over at him, but said nothing. With a vague, half-hearted gesture, Mustang indicated that Edward shouldn't concern himself, so he turned away, his frown turning into a scowl. Someone, Edward noted, had placed a flower by his bedside, a large, droopy thing which smelt pleasing but didn't look particularly nice. Its hanging petals were blue, with faint lilac tips, and much like a hibiscus, its style and stamen were a dull orange. Edward sighed, and decided to initiate conversation with the man next to him. "Roy?" he asked, referring to the man in the way he had asked to be called, "What's that flower called?" He felt the man stir next to him.

Mustang followed his gaze for a moment and sighed. "In a language that you would understand," he said, "It's called the Child of the Moon. It usually only blooms at night, but recent genetic streams we developed have been able to stay in flower for a few days." Mustang gave a dry snort of amusement. "It's not much to look at, so Gracia must have chosen it for its fragrance." Edward nodded and they fell silent again. The flower sat there looking gloomily about the world.

Edward opened his mouth for a moment, then let it fall shut with a click. Mustang sighed softly to his left and attracted Edward's attention again. He didn't look, but he tensed when Mustang rested his hand on his shoulder in an attempt to get him to look over. The hand, much to Edward's dismay, didn't move. A battle of wills had begun and Edward felt his patience wearing thin. It wasn't long until he gave an impertinent snort and glared at the man. "What?" He demanded expectantly. The man was smiling softly, the expression suiting him so much more than a smirk. He replied to Edward's look with a patient tip of his eyebrows.

Not for the first tie, Edward felt a strange sort of closeness to the man. "Edward," Mustang said with an almost awkward tone. This alone caught Edward's attention more than the hand did before. '...Cheer up, would you?"

The lame statement caused Edward to glare. "Don't tell me what to do, Mustang." He said. The man winced and strangely, Edward suddenly wished to take the statement back, realising he hadn't said it in a long while. Since Edward and the man had come to be on almost-friendly terms, Edward hadn't really sniped at him at all. Part of Edward was highly annoyed at the man for making him feel guilty, the rest was just apologetic. Once again, Edward was reminded of his own recent uselessness and had taken it out on Mustang. The man deserved it, to be sure, but it wasn't fair on Edward's part. The man gave him another one of those soft, sad smiles.

"You're not fun to tease when you're depressed." The avian said almost matter-of-factly. "You don't react the way you usually do and I'm left not entertained in the least." Edward frowned and turned his head to one side, trying to ignore the man as best he could when they were in such close contact. Mustang chuckled at his antics. "Edward, if you cheer up, I will take you to the rabbits when I get back."

Edward turned. "Where are you going?" he demanded.

This caused the man to laugh outright. Edward thought suddenly that it stripped years off the man, and that the twenty-nine year old could suddenly be no more than a day over 21. "It wouldn't be as much fun if I told you." He managed to gasp out between residual chuckles. The man removed his hand and turned back to what he was doing, but there was a new light in his eyes as if Edward had taken a large weight off his shoulders.

Edward frowned and added this to his list of things to work out. It only occurred to him later that he had enjoyed himself in the man's presence, and that the man's aim in this session had been to simply cheer him up. Making sure that no one was around, Edward broke into a small, almost fond grin. He wouldn't admit, even to himself that he had gained a liking of the bastard over his time on the ship.

* * *

"Ed's going to hate you for this."

Scowling at the shrugging shoulders in front of him, Maes Hughes, loving father and husband tried to convince his best friend that what he had in mind really wasn't as smart as he thought it was. The avian in front of him, double checked the safety on the gun at his waist.

"I mean, really hate you." Maes continued, "Rip out your small intestine and hand you from the ceiling style hate, Roy." He hoped that would be enough. There was only so far his brand of sensible humour could convince the man, and then he would have to step on the man seriously. He didn't want to do that.

Mustang muttered something distractedly that might have been a form of affirmant, before reaching into the drawer beside him and extracting two small night-vision contact lenses.

"You guys are finally getting on somewhat decently!" Hughes told him. "You seemed to not want to go through with the plan." The man flinched, and then went back to almost physically ignoring him. Hughes sighed, he didn't want to have to whip out the photos to get the man to see his way, but it looked like it was a desperate situation. Mustang was putting the contacts in.

"It's a different plan." Mustang said after a moment in which Hughes had silently debated whether the photo of Elysia with a bird or Elysia playing with dough would have been a better persuasion method. Hughes was snapped out of his internal musings by the man and looked up to see Roy in the process of hiding small knives among his feathers. "For what I want to do, you are indeed right. Edward will want to kill me." The man sighed. "He will have every right to do so as well."

Hughes frowned, deciding that even Elysia wasn't a good enough deterrent in this situation. He wondered if Roy's baby pictures would come in handy, but then thought against it. As much as he wanted to keep the man sane, Hughes liked being alive. "Tell you what," He said, "If you're going out to do something stupid, then I'm coming too." Maybe the immediate threat of having to put up with his best friend on an extended basis would deter the man. Roy turned.

Hughes knew that expression. No such luck. With a sigh he continued, "Only a fool would go into a plan alone, Roy. There's no way I would let my bet friend become a fool." Even not knowing what the avian's plan was, Hughes knew he couldn't do it alone.

Roy gave Hughes a weak smile. "What would I do without you?" He asked the man, and then returned to seriousness. "Still, you haven't really done your job, have you? Somehow, having escaped your notice, I have become foolish. Please don't follow me this time."

Hughes sighed. "I'm tempted to check if you have a fever." He grinned slightly, then let the expression fade. Though he wouldn't admit it, he was worried for the man. Hughes knew for a fact that Roy couldn't say he was a fool unless the man believed it so. Time to bring out the really big guns. "I'm doing this for my protection too, Roy." He said, "Gracia would kill me if she found out I'd let you run off and betray your county without at least one friendly face by your side." Because suddenly Hughes knew that was exactly what Roy planned to do. He would have told Edward in any other case.

"I'm not betraying my country." Roy reasoned, rifling through a stack of files. "I'm letting Edward's country spread its wings and fly free." Mustang turned to face him. "I can't rule in his place any more."

Hughes chuckled. "In other words, you're letting him go." This was worse than he thought.

Mustang nodded and Hughes grinned, coming to stand next to him, putting both hands on his shoulders. "See, this is why we're best friends, you moron." The man flinched under Hughes' hard stare. "You, when you get like this aren't sensible in the least, and I'm just fool enough to follow you." Hughes smiled then. "Fool enough to follow you to the end."

He let go of the man's shoulders then, searching through the armoury for a charged weapon. Mustang overcame his momentary shock. "Idiot." He said, but the insult was fond. "I need you to stay here to guide him. I need to do as much as I can for him before he decides what the future has in store." Hughes sighed and rolled his eyes. His best friend was using backwards logic again, he was hiding something.

"You know, logically, the best way to do that would be staying by his side until he's learnt everything he needs." Hughes told him.

"Logic has a habit of being flawed." Roy replied. He smiled and shook his head. "My mere presence is probably going to sway his decisions if we look at this logically. For better or for worse, that shouldn't happen." Roy sighed quietly. "I can't do anything more for him directly. Now I must secure him with more valuable allies than I. Those that will refuse to coddle him, or attempt to potentially break him, should they see fit. Those who will teach him the consequences of rash behaviour and actions. Those that will let him fly free, let him run the risk of falling, other than strive to overprotect him as we have done."

"You're planning an exchange with the Earth forces?" Hughes demanded; making the logic leap that only those that had been around the man for years could. "The two upper hostages for Mars and two captured avians." He glared. "You and I know that two humans won't be enough for that."

Mustang smirked, and Hughes could feel the scheming element of the man coming to the surface. "If course it won't." He turned towards the doorway and started to stroll almost leisurely towards it. "I already know that." He spoke over his shoulder, "Besides, we haven't had the prisoners nearly long enough for the Earth to be desperate for them back."

"Then why even bother?" Maes frowned, confused. He was getting a very bad feeling about the direction in which this conversation was heading.

"Because that's not all I have to offer." Roy replied calmly. "The other girl won't work. We already know this because Earth hasn't budged from its initial bargaining position even when we've placed her in the deal. However, if we exchange an avian to replace the one we 'stole'..."

Hughes noticed the bitterness that crept into that last statement but chose to ignore it for the time being. "Who would that avian be?" he asked, "Who would you have exchanged for peace without loosing Edward's belief and trust in your services?" It seemed more foolish than anything the man had ever heard before.

"Why Hughes." Mustang said with long-suffering patience. "That avian would be me."

* * *

"...That yell sounded like Hughes." Edward said; looking in the direction it had come from with slight confusion.

Alphonse sighed and took the momentary distraction as an opportunity to force-feed his older brother milk. He decided that he wouldn't tell his brother the level of vulgarity of that word. Edward would most certainly start to use it if he knew _that_.

----

"I've said it three times now and I'll say it again. Of all of your bad ideas, and I'm talking the truly bad ones, the ones that had the potential to bring you to a rather disgusting, raspberry jam coloured end, by far mustang, this is the worst one you've ever had." The voice Winry was vaguely aware of puncturing her fogged mind was strangely familiar. "Note here, that I am including the time that you asked Lisa to be your casual sex partner."

There was a strange sort of snort, and then the yelling continued in words that her communicator couldn't translate for her. Interested slightly, she let her mind clear so she could focus on the two angels who had just stepped into the prison in which she was being held. She watched with a dark sort of curiosity as both the black haired, dark winged creatures made their way down the corridor, decked out in what looked like espionage gear. She realised they were approaching the cell across from here and wondered what they could want with Ling this time.

One of the angels, she suddenly realised, was the one that Edward answered to. At first she had wondered how he had won Edward's obedience and loyalty, but now seeing him in the dim gloom, he lost his sense of youth and humanity (She wasn't sure if she could use that word, but it was the only one that fitted.) and he had turned into a cold and regal creature. His black features were highlighted by the gloom, his white skin appearing to shimmer as what little light there was highlighted it. He was contradictory even unto himself and Winry knew at once why Edward was intrigued with these people. Mustang, Edward had called him, the man who had cost Winry the confidence she had had in her best friend. The name was familiar to her for another reason, beyond the fact that Edward had only paid her minimal attention while he was around, bot for the moment she couldn't place it. The other one, following behind, appeared to be pleading almost desperately. Winry couldn't remember his name at the present point in time.

"Have you thought for a moment about how this will affect the crew?" The one who's name Winry couldn't remember spoke. He seemed panicked about something. "Think how it will affect Edward! He's only just starting to really trust you." Winry's ears perked up at the mention of Ed's name. She suddenly found herself paying full attention, as much as she didn't want to.

"He's a big boy." Mustang replied with a tone of non-committal. "He can take care of himself. No, he must. I can't rule in his stead anymore. He is a prince and he has to live with that fact." Winry ignored her confusion at what Edward had been referred to for a moment to listen to the conversation further.

"I don't understand why not!" The first angel snapped. "You've been doing a fine job of t up until now. What's changed between today and yesterday to make you like this? Only the other day you were telling me that the boy has barely made one decision where you haven't at least had some sort of hand."

Mustang smiled, and Winry noted that it brought a sort of sadness into the angel. "I was wrong, Hughes." He replied, "By my amended count he's made three."

Mustang turned to the lock in front of Ling's cell and turned his attention solely onto it. He didn't even glance over at Winry, though he called for Ling in a slightly annoyed tone. He probably didn't even realise that she overheard him saying, "And all three have been to do with the girl. The first choice was to tell her to get out, when she would have died had she stayed and tended to the human machinery as she was supposed to." He raised his hand to 'Hughes', "Before you say anything, it was all over his thoughts when he returned from the mission. I couldn't help but try to find out what was making him so pale. Secondly, he endangered his own life for her. The most important person we have put himself at risk for a common human. Doesn't that tell you something?"

Hughes opened his mouth to speak, but was again cut off by Mustang. "Finally, ever since she's been on the ship, he's continually insisting on seeing her. It's only been because of the fast thinking of the crew that she didn't know about the summons. It would seem that now she's on the ship, he wants to be with her more than anyone else."

The other angel stared for a moment, and then must have come to a conclusion. "So, according to your reasoning, he loves her."

"You were right. You are the only person who can read me that well."

Winry started for a moment, then growled. They were blind! And so very wrong about the whole situation. Edward would do those things for anyone he cared about; one only had to look at what he did for Nina Tucker to see that! She glared at the regal angel and decided to have her input. "Is that what you really think about Edward?" She demanded, "Because if that's the case then I think all that black must be dulling your vision." Both angels spun to look at her. "I may hate him right now, but I've never heard such nonsense reasoning about his character. You're right, Edward does love me, but only as one could love a sister, no matter how much I wish for it to be something more than that." Her voice was rising in pitch but she didn't care. "I know that he can't love me more than that. I know it can't happen and I've resigned myself to this fact."

The angel turned and looked at her critically for a moment. It was the first time he had even regarded her presence with anything more than total disdain. "Is that so, human? Would you care to enlighten me as to how you've come to this conclusion?" She winced at the coldness in his voice, but returned the look he gave her with one of equal hatred. She reminded herself that these people had killed humans, annihilated them even, without breaking a sweat or turning the other way. The angel smirked at her, cold and dark. "Perhaps it is because of your seemingly magical ability to hide technology and weapons on your person even when you have been strip searched twice?" he held out his hand to her and she handed over the communicator, refusing to feel guilty in the presence of these creatures.

She kept her gaze focused calmly on the creatures in front of her. "If he loved me in the way you think he does, would he have betrayed me?" She demanded, "He would have never left home in the first place, and even if he did, he would have come home with me the first chance he had. He never would have abandoned me or put my life in danger like he did." The fact he had still gave her great sadness.

Mustang regarded her for a moment, as if she was nothing more than a silly girl who had gotten caught in the crossfire. He turned away. "You think so, human? Edward has a great responsibility tying him here, one that al avians, including himself, recognise as with a greater importance than emotion."

Winry frowned. "You can say that things are more important than family and emotion all you want, but I guarantee you that Edward won't believe them." She replied quietly, unsure as to why she felt the need to explain this. "And if you don't get that, I don't know why he considers you so highly as to tell you all the secrets he kept hidden from me for years."

The angel flinched so slightly that Winry thought she had imagined it. The other one was looking between them like it was some sort of tennis volley. "Even if Edward has placed me in the position you think he has, human," Mustang said over his shoulder, "I have to do this for him. I can't stay here, you wouldn't understand."

Winry sighed and sat back in her cot. It was obvious that nothing would convince this man, and she wasn't entirely sure why she was trying. She was defending Edward, but Edward had betrayed her. She thought it was to prevent this man from forcing Edward to experience what she had gone through. "When you get caught," She said after a moment, "Ed will come to get you, come Hell or high water. He'll follow you, just to keep you free and he will support you until the end. He'll do all this just to keep you free and close to him, if that is your wish. And then, maybe you'll understand what I mean when I say Edward values love and family more than anything else you can think of."

"You may know him, human," Mustang snapped, "But you know nothing of me, nor of Edward's relationships with the people on board this vessel." With a slight shake of his head, he continued, "And you hate my kind, just as I hate yours. What do you possibly have to gain from this?"

Winry smiled mournfully. "Nothing." She said, "I will probably never see my family again, because in the eyes of humans I'm just a worthless lower class scum who was stupid enough to get herself caught. But Edward has become a lot more than that, even if it's in a way that I don't like." she couldn't think how best to explain it to the man. "Edward's found a place here that's made him truly happy for the first time... probably ever."

"And? He has all that without me here."

"You don't understand." She replied, "Edward lets you touch him. Edward doesn't let anyone touch him, but he's let you. That's enough to prove to me that he needs you, probably as much as you need him."

She could see the puzzlement that lined the man's eyes as he opened Ling's cell and awoke the boy inside. Handcuffing the upperclassman with a special kind of electro-motive force restraint, he turned to her one last time, slight respect in his eyes. "We'll see what happens when this is over, human. We'll see who he runs to."

She smiled at him slightly, even as he had already turned away to gather Ran from her cell.

* * *

.

* * *

_A/n: Not a long author's note today because I'm about five minutes away from needing to go to uni. (I don't want to have to explain to my Japanese lecturer why I'm late for his class again; he's threatened to make me do it in Japanese this time. "Sumenasai, sensei, watashi wa... anno, watashi wa communications no benkyou shimasu?") Yeah, I don't know how to say "I was writing fan fiction" yet. I should ask about that._

_Anyway. The name of the ship got a mention this chapter, did you catch it?_

_I've really got to get going, I just wanted to say a few things:_

_I got a new job._

_This means I have money for more anime._

_So expect some fan fiction from other series' from me as soon as I know enough about Gankotsuou and Kyo Kara Maoh to actually write on them._

_Leave a little review? -Shakes her tin can imploringly- (P.S. WOW. Over 30 pages of reviews! You guys are so good to me!)_


	19. Life and Death

"The embassy from Mars has arrived, sir." Paul straightened, looking over the rim of his coffee cup at the young boy who had given the announcement. He barely looked out of his childhood, his uniform hanging off him like a presumptuous mother had bought it big enough for him to grow into. Message now delivered, the boy nearly ran out of the room as the man to Paul's left stood and Paul focused his attention on him instead. The man was dull looking, with black hair and a bushy moustache but no beard. His face looked like someone had chiselled it out of stone, with strong cheekbones and a stubborn chin, and his eyes seemed permanently closed in an expression of mirth that the man saw no reason to hide. Bradley, his last name was, Paul had never bothered to catch his first because the man was called 'sir' by his underlings (very many) and 'Bradley' by everyone else (at most, about three people that Paul knew of.). Paul found it possible, but improbable; that the man's name could have been lost to time itself and that the only persons who knew it were the man's parents.

Bradley was insanely high in the social rankings. Third richest man in the world, the man was an acute businessman and a skilled military commander, having risen to power at the relatively young age of forty. He knew how to demonstrate both his power and his wealth in affluent parties with just the right amount of sophistication and the smallest touch of flair. Paul had once been to one of these gigs, it had been disconcerting to say the least to see just how many connections the man had and just how well-to-do humans of the upper class were. He sighed then, for he knew that the embassy that the man was greeting now wouldn't see this side of Bradley, but rather, the side that made him much more powerful than the true parliament. Bradley's military brain had placed him at the head of the army and not just because he could control armies. The reports of the man's office tactics to secure his position were infamous, and more often than not, nothing less than bloody.

Knowing of the man's reputation, therefore, Paul had been shocked to discover that he had been called to be the psychoanalyst for today's proceedings. While he was trained in the field, Bradley had innate skill for such a thing and that was something that no one with just book smarts and experience could learn. One had to have an intuitive ability to predict reactions and movements, one that Paul was significantly lacking. This had shown itself most blatantly when Paul had no clue that Gabriel even knew what he was, let alone how to get back, and Paul had been the boy's psychiatrist for quite some time before he vanished. This lead to Paul realising that he had perhaps been given this role to serve as one who had the most contact with the boy besides the scum of the lower class. (Never mind that as middle class, Paul was only slightly better.) Perhaps it was a test for Paul, an attempt to redeem himself in the eyes of his betters, or perhaps it was because Paul was the only one who understood at least some of the machinations in the angel brain.

Paul's forte did not lie in politics, however, so he merely sat to one side to study the proceedings.

Bradley inclined his head slightly in the direction of one of the guards at the door. The guard gave a small salute in return and placed his hand on a palm-scanning device. With a noise like a microwave announcing its task done, the door at the end of the large room slid open. Through the door now, stepped three of the most bizarre things Paul had ever seen.

They were bizarre due to their normality in Paul's eyes. They could pass for human with ease, as Paul had already learnt when dealing with Edw- Gabriel but they were distinctly not human. He could see it in the hawklike precision of their gaze, the ferocity in their stance. All the things he had taken for granted in Edward as part of the boy's unique idiosyncrasies came out full force when Paul had to focus on three of the winged men. The oddities and ties to them not being human were thrown into a sharper relief when coupled with their wings that stuck out from their sides awkwardly. The wings seemed a hindrance more than anything, causing the men to have to go through the wide door one at a time (Or this could have been a custom in their race, Paul didn't know) their wings folded in awkward positions so that they could fit. All three were straight-backed and proud, the one standing slightly forward with an air of sophistication that Paul had previously only associated with Bradley. There was a small smirk on this one's face, and a cunning wit hovered around the lines of his eyes. These were tilted upwards so that he could meet Bradley's face through his eyelashes; the man seemed reluctant to have to look up, as if it was a show of inferiority. The man was highly attractive and elegant, a real lady-killer and Paul found himself wishing that he'd had that sort of poise when he was younger. The three men strode towards the table and now that Paul's attention was diverted he saw that they were bringing with them the two upper-class prisoners, a boy who Paul had only seen photos of before, and his bodyguard.

Bradley seemed satisfied with the proceedings, his smile nearly stretched from ear to ear, but it wasn't one of pleasure. Paul thought it had a distinct look of victory to it. As the embassy reached the table, he extended his hand with an unnecessary flourish. "Captain Mustang. It is a great pleasure to finally meet you in person."

With a nod, the lead angel took Bradley's hand in both of his, clasping it warmly. "I'm sure." The angel said, taking the seat directly across from Bradley. The two other angels remained standing; both were cuffed to a prisoner each, though the one to the right was more deftly secured. (This was because the boy he was cuffed to was highly more valuable than the girl in the negotiations and both sides knew it.) This angel strangely wore glasses, and Paul found himself surprised that angels could actually have vision problems. It just went to show him how little he actually knew of the enemies of the Earth. The other one, the one on the left had the strangest hair, two coloured, a blonde fringe and a brown back. Definitely odd in Paul's opinion. "And your friend is...?" The first of the beings asked, making a vague gesture in Paul's direction.

Bradley actually chuckled. "This is Paul Duncan, one of the Psychologists on the Gabriel team. He is merely here to study the psychological states of your prisoners." The man's eyes slid open a slit to stare half-dangerously at 'Mustang'. "You must understand that we wish that no harm has come to our own." Mustang's gaze was still focused thoughtfully on Paul's. With a small frown, Paul averted his eyes, unable to keep them locked on the sharp black stare any longer. When he dared look again, the man was smirking and focusing on Bradley. Paul realised he'd just been tested. He'd failed miserably judging by the creature's expression.

There was a pressure just on the inside of Paul's skull, small and insignificant, the kind that alerted someone of a headache coming on. He rubbed the bridge of his nose once. Mustang's smirk seemed to grow a fraction before the angel replied in even tones, "I think you will find that our prisoners are in the same mental state as yours if you have kept our comrades well." Paul flinched here; he'd heard the horror stories of what they did to captured angels and knew that the end results were very rarely pretty. "However, as we are sharing information here like sensible men, my bodyguards are Maes Hughes and Jean Havoc, sensible men who are here just to ensure my safety."

_In other words, they're here because you trust us nowhere near as far as you can throw us._ Paul thought snidely, his analytical brain beginning to kick into gear. The situation reeked of power plays and mind games, like two men sitting over a chessboard and both players being two moves away from a checkmate. Bradley shifted slightly, it was white's move. And what black didn't know was white was cheating.

Paul, no matter what his ex-wife thought of him, had a conscience. He hated seeing these people across from him struggling to gain the upper hand when he knew what Bradley had in store for them. He knew that all was fair in love and war, but some things just didn't sit right with him and this was one such instance.

And there was that headache again. Mustang was looking at him almost oddly now, before Bradley finally made his next move. "Of course, my dear Captain. Your wariness of us is easy to understand considering our stormy relations in the past." Bradley slid slightly forward in his chair, folding his fingers and looking over the top of them at the angel. "Your knowledge also, of what questions I would wish to ask you, it is almost like you are reading my mind." The man chuckled once more. There was something in Mustang's posture that went rigid at that, and something that made the boy prisoner distinctly more amused and cocky.

Mustang quickly bounced back; however, "Your files are so much more useful to me than your mind, most distinguished of men." He moved to copy Bradley in body positioning. "The information in your stores makes it easy to predict what you wish to find out from me." That said, the man leaned back again, confident smirk more fixed in place. "But I tire of these word games, as I'm sure you do too. Our business today is not a battle of wits."

Paul wished it was.

"Were our races currently peaceful," said Bradley, "It would be a fine challenge to argue with you. Perhaps there will be a time when we can do so." The man looked like he highly doubted it. "Alas, such novelties should be saved for times of peace, do you not agree, Captain?"

"Perhaps just such a time will be closer than you think." The angel mused and Bradley leaned back, a sardonic twist in his eyebrows. Mustang continued with, "Down to business then. The embassy of avians you see before you is here to discuss the trade of prisoners and a peaceful end to the dispute between our races through this action."

"And I am here to remind you of the human's previous stance on this issue which is adamant refusal without the procurement of one Edward Elric, from Project Gabriel." Bradley replied without missing a beat. "Two humans for a planet, no matter the social standing of those involved is not an adequate trade. Procure for us Gabriel, and our position may change."

"Edward," Mustang returned, a crease in his brow, "Has never been the property of humans. As an avian, do you dispute that his place is with those of his kind, not as the focus of some kind of sick experimentation?" Paul was watching the trading of blows like he was at some kind of tennis rally.

Mustang had barely finished speaking when Bradley replied with, "Should you not sacrifice one person for the greater good of your race? Humans merely wish to study him to gain a greater understanding of your species without the bias of your own opinions." His eyes opened slightly wider then, staring Mustang down and waiting for a reply.

"Edward is a sentient creature." Said the angel. "He is not to be bartered as some sort of property or commodity. You act like he belongs to you."

"Does he not?" Paul looked at Bradley in amazement. The man had sounded like Mustang suggesting something else was ludicrous. "Humans raised him and cared for him since his infantdom. This would therefore lay some sort of claim on him for us."

Mustang gave a slightly visible snarl, his smirk faltering. Paul caught himself wondering for an insane moment, just what type of relationship that the angel had for Gabriel. From what Paul had seen of the boy, Gabriel was a dark, moody and antisocial brat. Truth be told, he didn't understand why both sides of the argument were warring over him so. Paul saw Gabriel to be a hindrance to any side that got him. Surely they should be arguing over who had to suffer him? "Edward is not a commodity." Mustang snapped. "He is not something to be possessed or laid claim to."

Bradley seemed unaffected by his opponent's visible discomfort. "We, humans, have taken that power which you angels would have allowed to lie in ruins amongst your genes. You are remarkable creatures with your almost telekinetic powers of control and manipulation of ordinary things." Mustang was visibly caught off guard at this; he sat back heavily in his chair and seemed almost comforted by a pale hand finding its way to his shoulder. The hand belonged to one of his bodyguards, the one with glasses. Bradley noticed the lack of composure about the same time that Paul did, so blatant was it and boldly continued with the winning blow. "The gene locks we discovered, the keys that had been lost but could be recreated. Amazing powers can be unlocked in you angels if humans merely have the time and the patience. We found Gabriel's key, unlocked the sleeping beast within him."

Mustang growled, muttering something incredibly vulgar in his native tongue. "You won't settle for anything less than him." It seemed a useless statement of the facts and Paul felt sorry for the man.

"Angels play right into the hands of God, Mustang." Replied Bradley calmly. "Have you even thought to wonder why we called him Gabriel?"

Mustang said something so foul that it would have made a soldier blush. He knew as well as everyone else around the table that he had lost.

"We called him Gabriel because Gabriel is the messenger of God. Gabriel carries both messages of destruction and salvation to the world. Gabriel would have prophesised your doom." Bradley checked himself then and his victorious little grin grew into a full-fledged smile. "And now that we have secured the right bait, God will gain his messenger once again."

"Just what have you done to him?" The angel demanded.

"You won't be alive long enough to care."

_Checkmate._ Paul thought grimly.

* * *

The human raised his right arm and snapped his fingers in such a sickening imitation of Roy's own abilities that he flinched. _This is wrong._ Floated across the other one's brainwaves. Duncan, the portly man was called and Mustang saw once again why Edward had thought him an old quack. Too weak to have said anything this whole meeting, even though the distress coming off him this whole time had been thick and fast and nearly equal in volume to the smugness radiating off the other. _This is wrong. I don't agree to this at all._

"Then you should have said something earlier, Mr. Duncan." Roy said snidely, having little patience for the man, less now that he'd lost spectacularly. The man graced him with an utterly perplexed look, a moment before a steel wall smashed through the middle of the glass table, shutting the avians and their prisoners off from the humans on the other side of the divide. Roy was only allowed a brief moment to ponder the change in events before Ling Yao slipped from his binds and grinned.

"Gotcha." The young man said with the air about him changing to the scheming creature Mustang had known lived under the innocent surface all along. The binds on Ran too fell away with a depressing 'chink'. Roy felt his eyes slide closed for a moment, before they opened again, looking directly into the slanted gaze of the elite human before him.

"Well played." He said and meant it. Roy's world had become surprisingly calm after his initial anger and frustration at having been played, every additional move that the humans had made now so blindingly obvious. Yaos' quiet but dedicated complaining the whole way down had been to alert them of their arrival through the grapevine before the avians had wanted to be known, Ran's subtle but insistent way of ensuring that they remained distracted and unfocused up until the business deal had been tried and failed. Even the manipulative way they'd tricked Havoc into having to come as well; now all the steps were so blindingly obvious but they had seemed pointless at the time.

Mustang had always known there was a high risk of a doublecross throughout this whole meeting. It was probably now why he met it with such calm in the face of fire. Hughes and Havoc had drawn their weapons while Roy didn't bother. He stared Yao down, standing from the seat and brushing shattered glass out of his lap. "I would sorely like to have my men kill you right now." He admitted, long past any need for pretending that there were good relations in the room. "However, that would not alleviate my predicament; indeed, it would make it a lot worse." He raised his right hand and the guns were placed back into holsters.

Not one to truly admit defeat though, Mustang reached into his pocket, extracting one of his famous gloves. He slid it on in small, but precise and efficient movements, holding his hands at eyelevel so the humans could see exactly just what he was doing. Yao laughed at him, eyes squinting shut. "Your predicament, my dear sir, is already dire."

Having said that, the boy moved in movements as slow and deliberate as Roy's own to the left wall of the large chamber. He seemed to be retreating away from something; his gaze was plastered to the far side of the room where an ominous grinding noise had started up. Looking over his shoulder, Roy saw that the entire right wall was a mechanical grate, lifting up at a torturously slow pace. It was at least three storeys until the ceiling of the antechamber and not for the first time, Roy wondered with a sort of curiosity just what use the humans had for a room this big. It seemed he was about to find out.

Suddenly accompanying the grating of gears on gears came an animal-like snorting and gushing like a large dog snoring through its nose. Mustang gave the door more of his attention, turning away from Yao to watch the scene unfolding before him better. A slither of natural light appeared under the door before it was blocked by a large, reptilian snout sniffing at the gap. A serpent-like tongue flicked out under the wall, it was longer than Roy was tall. Whatever the thing was behind that wall, it explained the height of the chamber quite nicely.

Some part of Roy was already calculating his chances of survival. If either Hughes or Havoc could get out of that gap and into the daylight, they could take the shuttle back to the Shiroi and tell Edward not to come. It was a long shot, but if there was someone distracting that _thing_ (if it was hostile as Roy thought it was) then they just might be able to pull it off.

The door had opened nearly to its full extent now, and the reptile was blocked out against the sun. Roy primed himself to take flight. He had a feeling the creature wouldn't attack until there was some kind of trigger, but he needed to prepare himself for the instant something took a greater turn for the worse. This was just another battle, he told himself, just another adversary to overcome.

"How do you like the _Sanguinnan_?" Ling asked from somewhere behind him. Roy didn't take his eyes off the creature to answer. "It is genetically engineered to go insane at the scent of angel blood. It will hunt down the source of that blood, my dear guests, and destroy it, an ultimate fighting tool." The beast stepped out of the light at this moment, rearing up onto its hind legs to get a better view of the widened space of its enclosure. It stood so tall that its head nearly brushed the ceiling of the antechamber, and its every limb was lined with foot long spikes. These spikes had a translucent liquid dripping from the end that Roy felt certain was a sort of toxin. It's tail was as long again as it's body and it was slowly waving back and forth, coming dangerously close to destroying the other walls a many a time. The same spikes that lined its limbs ran all the way down its back and to the tip of its tail which rounded out into a fierce looking club. Sickly grey in colour, it was disgusting to look at, its honey eyes stared down at Roy with mild interest, like a cat would look at a mouse before it ate it. "It is much improved from the one that Gabriel fought when he lost his arm." Yao said quietly, "It no longer targets humans at all, and it's bloodlust can be controlled until angel blood has actually been shed, instead of going insane at the mere whiff of one of your kind in it's vicinity." Mustang noted that its teeth were bigger than his forearm in length.

There was a wet sound, accompanied by a startled shout from Hughes. Roy spun just in time to see Ran's second knife fly, this one burying itself in Maes' throat rather than his shoulder. "Hughes!" Roy shouted as the man clutched at the blade, blood leaking out from around the wound. Roy dived forward as the man fell, shock still etched into every one of his features, his mouth opening and closing like a fish struggling for air. With a gurgle and a grim rattling wheeze, Hughes' previously rigid body went slack, toppling the final distance to the ground before Roy could catch him. Turning the man over, Roy's fears were confirmed when he stared into glassy eyes as the man's body started to quickly grow colder. Checking for a pulse and finding none, Roy felt Hughes' blood smearing his un-gloved hand. The man was dead. With a feral cry, Roy raised his hand and snapped in Ran Fan's direction. The girl nimbly dodged the furious blast and Roy prepared to snap again.

A deafening, bestial roar broke through the maddening red haze covering Roy's thoughts. He looked over his shoulder just in time to dodge the reptilian monster's clawed hind leg slamming down where he had been. It had changed completely from the calm and curious thing it had been before, now it was bellowing terribly as if in great pain, eyes rolling madly, tongue flicking out to taste the air. "CAPTAIN!" Havoc shouted just as the beast turned to charge again. Havoc was already firing at the animal, the shots being absorbed uselessly into its flesh, about as annoying as a fly. They left slight burn marks where they landed, but otherwise did no real damage.

Mustang's senses came back as the beast prepared to charge him once more and he took to the air with three quick flaps. Havoc immediately copied him, coming to meet him up near the ceiling. Roy scanned the floor of the chamber for Hughes' murderer, but the girl and her male counterpart were gone.

The monster let out another ear splitting roar, its head rolled left and right, eyes spinning insanely in their sockets. Its breath now was coming in huge, gushing snorts and Roy and Havoc were forced to move when a forepaw came swishing through the air towards them. Havoc fired desperately at the creature's hide. It snorted, not even noticing the gunfire, vision finally coming to rest on Hughes' dead body.

It lowered its head and sniffed at the corpse, muscles in its neck rippling and bulging. Roy took the creatures' momentary distraction as an opportunity to reach Havoc again. "Soldier." He said as the man fired uselessly, flapping every so often to remain airborne. "Get to the shuttle and get back to the ship."

"You're insane, Mustang." The man said, not changing his focus on the creature for a moment. "I'm not leaving you to fight that thing by yourself."

"It's an order, soldier." Mustang retorted, watching the beasts' tail flick, and its spine arch. "Someone has to warn Edward not to come."

The monster, seemingly having investigated the dead body enough, took it in its front teeth. Throwing what used to be Hughes up into the air, it opened its jaw wide before with a sickening, gut lurching snap, it closed its teeth around him. There was the sound of avian bones shattering and a rain of blood spilt forth from its mouth. Eyes roving madly, the creature turned to glance at Roy and Havoc, read foam and Hughes' blood dribbling down its neck. Half a wing was sticking out the side of its jaw, the grey feathers matted with spittle. With another quick snap, that too was gone.

Havoc had gone green. Mustang felt very sick himself, watching the ugly brutes tongue loll madly out of its mouth a single grey feather still stuck to the tip. The beast roared again, dislodging the feather which floated to the ground almost gracefully.

"Havoc." Roy's voice came out weakly, his body rocking with fine tremors from what he had just witnessed. "Get back to the ship. Do you really think you stand a chance against it? One of us has to come out of this alive."

"But Sir!"

"That's an _order_, Havoc." Mustang said acidly, focused now on avoiding the beasts claws and teeth. "I'll distract it; you just get out of here."

He saw the man nod out of the corner of his eye and he dived. The monster's head followed him, and he only managed to get out of the way of another of those disgusting, bone shattering bites. Havoc took the opportunity to get past the monster, to the light that was now pouring out of the other end of the enclosure.

Roy landed and instantly had to jump backwards as a claw sliced through the air where he'd just stood. He slipped slightly on the floor, the blood on the ground making travel treacherous. Havoc was muttering just audibly as he flew out of the building, Roy only catching snatches of what he was saying. "...Winds of fate... my path... thieves may steal..." Roy nearly smiled. It was an old warrior chant they'd learnt when they were children. He dodged another blow from the creature, trying to conserve his energy and his life for as long as possible.

The creature's attention shifted momentarily to where Havoc had passed though and it looked about to follow him. "I'm sorry, Hughes." Mustang whispered, taking some of the blood from the pool on the ground and smearing it over the only part of his skin he could access and that didn't already have blood covering it, his cheeks. The monster's head cocked and its nostrils flared as it spun remarkably quickly to look down at him. "Though the winds of fate should buffet my path, though thieves should steal from my purse..." Roy muttered, following Havoc's lead.

The creature reared and roared down at him, showering him with foul smelling spittle. Rows of fangs glinted with spit and blood, the wind from its roar blowing Mustang's hair back and making him reel. "I shall not fear. For I am a warrior."

The monster's head came down, mouth opening. Roy raised his fingers and snapped, sparks shooting from the tips. He focused the power of the Mustang house on his opponent. "I..." Flames, more than Roy had ever summoned before, engulfed the beast and he held them up through willpower alone, his supplies of energy next to empty. The creature shrieked in pain. "Am..." The flames burnt bright, blue and yellow. Hughes' face swum in Mustang's vision and the flames doubled in intensity as Mustang felt his expression twist to one of mercilessness. "STRONG." With one last death throe, the monster fell backwards, a charcoaled heap. The room smelt of burnt flesh and blood.

The flames died as Roy Mustang's legs gave way underneath him.

* * *

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* * *

_A/n: ...I can't believe I just wrote that. _

_This has probably been the chapter I've been dreading this whole fic. Now that it's written... I dunno. I feel horrible. _

_I'm sorry Hughes!_

_Please leave a review? -Dodges flying flaming dog poo-_


	20. Tides Shall Turn

"Alphonse, have you seen the captain anywhere?" The boy in question turned, smiling brightly when he saw Cain Feury (holding about 20 thick files) who had addressed him. He had just stepped out of the hospital ward for the day, and he gently pulled shut the door behind him. Alphonse was in a truly good mood, for today his brother had seemed more cheerful than ever, and this meant that for once in the past three days, Alphonse had actually escaped the ward unharmed.

Alphonse truly had no clue what had put his brother in such high spirits, the question had been skilfully dodged every time he'd asked, so he'd just put it down to the fact that Edward's wound was healing abnormally fast and that he would be up and moving again soon. Gracia had in fact said that he could be discharged in all but a few hours. Turning his attention fully to Cain, with a bright smile, Alphonse fell into step next to the man.

"The captain? No, I'm afraid he hasn't been in the ward at all today. Truth be told, I was just going up to the bridge to see if I could visit him and have a moment of his time." Alphonse shrugged. "Maybe we could look together?"

"I've just been up to the bridge." Cain admitted. "They said exactly the same thing you did about him not being there all day, and then sent me down here." He looked mildly panicked. "I've searched about half the ship and haven't seen hide nor hair of him. If he's in the Main Hall you just look for the black spot, but even that's failed me." He sighed and shook his head. "Even Lisa doesn't know where he is, and Jean and Maes are proving harder to find than the captain."

Alphonse's smile immediately faded. "Have you tried paging him? Or searching in the places you've looked? If you stay in one spot, he's bound to show up eventually." They were heading up to the bridge, so they took flight to pass through the trees of the main hall, rather than go all the way around. "All this running around and searching, you may have missed him in transit."

Cain nodded. "I've tried paging him, and I was just about to come ask Edward if he'd seen the man. Usually if nobody else knows where the captain is, Edward does. It's uncanny." Cain shook his head with a smile. "I suppose it's to do with the fact that neither of those two are out of each other's sight for long these days. I find it hard to believe that they were constantly at dogger heads with each other when Edward first came on board."

They landed on a branch about halfway across the main hall to rest their wings for a moment. Alphonse blinked at Cain and then smiled. Leaning back against the tree branch, he folded his arms across his chest and his wings along his back. "And here I thought that most people hadn't noticed that!" He laughed brightly. "I'm of the opinion that only Brother hasn't noticed just how close he and the captain are getting." He shook his head. "But then, Brother seems a bit slow on the uptake with these things."

Cain nodded and shifted slightly along the branch, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet ever so slightly. He shuffled the files he was holding into what Al assumed was a more comfortable position and nodded. "It truly is hard to believe. I always thought that Lisa would be the one that the captain..." The intercom flared into life, nearly scaring the two young men off the tree branch.

Lisa's voice rolled over the artificial indoor forest, scaring half of its bird inhabitants into flight. "Unidentified vessel approaching. The Captain, First Mate and Royal Family are requested on the bridge. This ship is believed dangerous, so all who are not summoned are advised to take care. Repeat, Captain and the others requested, get your selves up here right now. Everyone else, take care."

Alphonse straightened up quickly, immediately preparing to make a mad dash to the other side of the hall. "The captain has been summoned." He said, looking at Cain, "So if you want to see him, why don't you come up to the bridge with me?"

"But isn't it dangerous?" Asked Cain.

"Not really." Alphonse found himself replying, "The Tenshi can deal with single ships easily. This should be over after they give the person in the ship a chance for surrender or identification. Also, the captain will be on the bridge and you can prevent him from running away after the threat is neutralized. Two birds, one stone as Brother would say."

Cain seemed a bit put off by the idea, however. "No, it's alright. I'll just leave these on the desk in his office." He smiled weakly and apologetically at Alphonse and took off. Alphonse smiled; knowing that it wasn't cowardice, but it was knowing when to stay out of the way that made Cain make the decision. He shook his head and took to the air, speeding in the direction of the bridge, as fast as his wings could carry him.

* * *

"Identify yourself or flash the colour of surrender this instant or you shall be fired upon." Lisa said into the radio communications just as Alphonse entered the bridge. The young prince took a quick scope of the situation; the ship was a human transport vessel, which was equipped accordingly, with strong defensive weapons on either flank. "You will receive no further warnings. Identify yourself." Lisa was bluffing, she couldn't fire without permission from a superior officer, but she was doing it well, Alphonse believed that she would issue the order, officer or not.

There was a deathly silence on the bridge as Al walked forward and took a seat next to the captain's chair. All eyes were focused on the screen, except for those of the few angels scanning communication channels and watching location devices. The ship on the monitor continued to approach the Tenshi at an agonising pace. No communication was forthcoming from the ship.

Lisa frowned severely. "Repeat." She said, "You will receive no further warnings. Identify yourself!" She sighed when once again she received no reply, taking the headphones off and looking out across the bridge. The gunners looked at her expectantly, not knowing what they were allowed to do under her command. Alphonse gulped; the tension was so thick, the air could be cut with a knife. "Where is the captain?" Lisa asked.

"He hasn't arrived yet, 'mam." Answered one of the gunners, looking at her in a confused way. He seemed uncertain.

"We can't wait for him." Lisa said regretfully. "Fire two warning shots across the vessel's nose. Don't fire to destroy, because that would be me overstepping my bounds." She sighed and the gunman nodded, knowing that his aim meant the difference between Lisa being praised as quick thinking, or her getting court martialled for her rash actions. Two silent explosions were seen on the screen. They were to the port side of the advancing ship, doing next to no damage because of the high defences transport ships had. Alphonse watched the monitor.

"Miss Hawkeye," he asked, "What has happened so far?"

Lisa sighed. "Half an hour ago, an unidentified ship appeared on our navigation. It has failed to respond to any of our calls for identification and is heading towards us at what seems to be docking speed. It has not yet fired upon us, but as we are unsure of its intention we can't be forgiving on our next shot. The captain isn't here to give that order though."

Alphonse nodded, noting how unusual the captain was behaving by not appearing on the bridge when there was a threat. Lisa put the headphones back on at that moment, and addressed the ship once more. "The next shot will puncture your defences. We ask again, Identify yourself!"

"That shot already punctured them!" An indignant voice came back over the radio. "And it nearly blew out one of my engines!" A communications window opened on the screen and a rather shell shocked looking Jean Havoc peered back at them all. He was a mess, his blond and brown hair soaked in sweat, his face white and clammy. "Not to mention my navigation interface is a mess! These human ships aren't built to endure a blast from the Tenshi of all things!"

The bridge just stared, open mouthed.

"Lieutenant!" Alphonse cried after a moment. This had the effect of kick-starting the bridge back into action. The bustle of activity started up again. "Ceasefire!" He shouted at the bridge, needlessly.

Hawkeye's frown deepened as she regarded the man on the screen, doing her best to ignore his somewhat sheepish look. Alphonse, however, was paying great attention to his mannerisms, he was slightly green and rubbing his hands together, his eyes darting left and right constantly as if he was nervous or worried. "Well?" Havoc asked after a moment of waiting, "Are you going to invite me in?" It was an attempt to break the tension, and it didn't really work.

Alphonse looked at him a moment longer before saying, "What are you waiting for, let him dock!" The bridge personnel didn't move, catching Alphonse by surprise.

"Sir," one finally ventured, "That's an order only the captain or the prince reagent can give. You are neither of these, so military protocol states we can't obey you. We do apologise."

Alphonse was about to emit some words worthy of his brother, when Havoc interrupted the mumbling on the bridge with, "Unfortunately, the captain is on Earth, having ordered me to run and relay what he believes may be his final orders. He was in very perilous conditions on Earth all of about three hours ago."

The bridge was so silent one could hear a pin drop.

Alphonse made a split decision to attempt one of his brother's more effective tactics than letting out a long string of vulgar words. "Well?" He demanded of the young woman who had questioned his orders before. He used his best impatient tone.

"Initiating docking procedures, Sir!" The woman said, returning to her monitor and typing as fast as her fingers could move.

Hawkeye, however, was not impressed. "And why did you even think it was acceptable to leave the captain in perilous conditions on the enemy planet, Havoc?" She asked, "And, why to the trees above did it take you half an hour to reply to our communications? If the captain was here, you would be dead."

"If the captain was here I wouldn't be flying a human ship instead of the one we took to Earth, would I? Ours had been ransacked by the time I managed to get out of the complex and up to it. Then, it took forever for me to find a frequency which was compatible for both ships. The Tenshi is too stubborn when it comes to relaying foreign vessel's messages." He shook his head. "As for why I left the captain, I'll answer that question when I'm on the ship. In private. Right now, like I said, I'm under strict orders to give out the Captain's orders and deliver a message to the prince reagent."

The words chilled the bridge, for everyone knew as soon as Havoc said 'perilous conditions' that there was every chance the captain could be dead, and now was a time for haste. Especially if Havoc had called Edward by his official title, and not by the slang 'boss' that the man constantly used.

Alphonse shuddered and wondered what dark tidings Havoc would bring.

* * *

"Brother, Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc is here to request an audience." Alphonse said quietly. Edward looked up to watch him step into the hospital ward looking highly distressed and more than a little frightened. The avians that filtered in behind him all were showing the same level of fear and distress in different ways, most of them having been trained to not openly show such emotions, but still letting some of it slip through their masks. Edward immediately sat up, alert and awake. He gestured for the group to come closer, looking at Havoc's dishevelled appearance and immediately offering for him to take the chair by the bed. Gracia approached the bed as well, curiosity drawing her forward as much as concern. 

Edward frowned. "How can I help you, Havoc?" He would have asked 'what's up?' but looking at the expressions of his colleagues, he doubted the statement would go down well. The man sat gratefully, his hands constantly fidgeting in his lap, his plain wings flicking slightly behind him. Edward recognised them both for what they were, nervous habits.

After a minute of contemplation, the avian began speaking. "It's about the captain." He said, with the air of prophesizing a doomsday. Edward fought to keep his eyebrow from reaching his hairline in impatience. This was obviously both important and hard to talk about or he would have been told the whole story already, probably by Al. The man on the seat sighed. "Perhaps I should explain a bit more. See, this morning, I was minding my own business and doing some repairs down in the hangar bay when I hear the captain and Hughes arguing rather loudly. They're approaching and I can't really hear what they're talking about, but it sounds important, something about the prisoners and your name was mentioned quite a bit, Boss. They were talking about Earth and that got the alarm bells ringing. I knew then and there that I wanted nothing to do with it. But me being me, I was curious so I yelled out to ask them what was wrong." He paused for a moment, and the fiddling of his hands increased. "Neither of them had realised I was there. They both jumped when they heard me."

"Can you get to the point, please Havoc?" Edward asked, sighing and not liking where the story was headed.

"Don't blame me!" The man said defensively, "I was told to tell you what happened! Anyway. They've got two of the Earth prisoners with them, the black haired ones so I assume they're going on a prisoner exchange. It's only when I've agreed to tag along and am on the ship that they bothered to tell me that they didn't have permission. Hughes says, "Roy's about to..."

"Wait." Gracia interrupted, "Where is my husband and why isn't he reporting this with you?" She looked more worried than Edward thought it was possible to look, her face as white as a sheet, goose bumps along her arms. "And why isn't the captain here?"

Havoc looked from her to Edward to the other members of the crew uncomfortably. Edward gestured that he should answer, seeing as he had been wondering that himself. Havoc stalled a moment longer before finally giving in to the inevitable. "They... They are..." He shifted in his seat, eyes downcast and face melancholy. "'Mam, First Mate Maes Hughes... well he..." He tried to look determined as he spoke, forcing the words out. "Maes is dead, 'mam. He fell in battle." Silence fell.

"Excuse me." Gracia said very quietly, trembling all over. She placed a fist over her mouth and her wings came around her almost defensively as she slowly made her way towards the door of the medical wing with precise, well timed steps. She opened the door, stepped out, closing it behind her. They heard her muffled and distraught wail a moment later. Hawkeye quickly stood and followed her.

Edward's stomach was clenching and unclenching, and he felt his body trembling with part disbelief, part resignation and mostly sadness. He was afraid to ask, but finally said, "And Roy?" He felt on the verge of panic.

Havoc's wings drooped and his face took on the lilt of despair that Edward had been dreading. Edward felt slow anger beginning to burn just below the surface of his skin. Two more people he had loved and cared about him had been snatched away from him by the Earthen government. The tingling under his skin was almost burning with its ferocity, his wings flexing almost uncontrollably on either side of him.

Alphonse wasn't watching him; instead, he was looking in the direction Gracia had gone in, completely missing the interchange between Havoc and Edward. He looked back when Edward let out a loud "FUCK!" though, and a loud crackle split the air just after it. Edward glared at both him and havoc, an annoying blue haze flicking past his vision every now and then. The ground started to tremble. "What happened?" He demanded ferociously, looking at Havoc. "Why didn't you try and stop it from happening? WHY, if Hughes died, would you leave Mustang there by himself?"

Havoc looked even more frightened now than when he came in. He was pressed back as far as possible in his seat, cowering away from Edward and making the young man in the hospital bed feel highly satisfied. Edward's fury hadn't abated yet, and he watched with disinterest as a blue crackle of electricity shot up from his skin, coming a hair's breadth away from touching the man in the chair. "I was ordered out of there to warn you!" Havoc admitted. "I don't know if Mustang is alive or dead, but he told me that if it should be the first that you can't come to rescue him. I was lucky to make it out alive! I doubt that Mustang preformed the same feat."

That was not what Edward wanted to hear, and he chose to make his displeasure known in the form of a low, animalistic snarl.

"Brother! Calm down!" Alphonse cried, on the verge of panic. He reached out to touch Edward's arm, only to have Edward's explosive anger suddenly directed at him. Edward batted the arm away quickly. "One of our best men is dead and our captain is missing in action and you expect me to calm down?" He yelled, pinning his younger brother where he stood with a glare. "I want to know why this happened! I want to know just what the fuck they were doing on Earth in the first place! I want to know why they were putting themselves in danger like that! I want to know just what the fuck was so important to him that he couldn't even tell me about it or ask my opinion!" Edward's anger was spent now, replaced with a hollow, empty feeling in his gut, He choked back the tears that were threatening to spill over. "Why did he leave? Why did he go? Everyone I care about..." He couldn't say any more. If he tried, he would start crying and not be able to stop. He pressed his prosthetic fist against his eyes to cool them.

"Brother..." He heard Alphonse say in an unsure voice a moment before he was wrapped up in a bone crushing hug by his younger sibling. That was the one thing that would push him over the edge. Edward Elric broke down and sobbed in his younger brother's shirt, being gently rocked as he did so.

* * *

As the tears stopped flowing, Edward became filled with a new, seemingly unstoppable energy. He felt a new drive within him to do something about the current circumstances. "We have to move while we're still able to." He said with a gleam in his eyes. Alphonse was still white from the horrible news they had heard, and he was hiccoughing slightly, having started silently crying a few moments after Edward. Hawkeye was still outside tending to a still weeping Gracia and trying to offer as much solace as she could to the new widow. "We have one man down; we have to do our best not to make that two." He gave a weak, watery grin. "We have to rescue Mustang before the humans get to him more than they already have."

Havoc shook his head. "Mustang ordered me to give you the message to not rescue him, Boss. He said that it was a mistake, and would be exactly what the humans are after." The man sighed. "To go against the captain's orders would be suicide." He paled and his eyes glazed as if remembering the exact horror that had happened down on the planet.

Edward pretended like he hadn't heard. "We need to strike out in a way that they're not expecting." He said, "We need to focus our efforts on their weaknesses while defending ourselves from their strengths, one of which is them having the trump card of Mustang's life. We need to get me a new leg." He sighed and then shook his head. "The bad part is even if I can convince Winry to make me one, it would take too much time for me to get used to it. It took me a month to learn how to use my arm again. I suppose I can ask for one of Auntie Pinnako's spares and try my best." Calculations were running through his head faster than he knew what to do with them. The barest fringes of a plan were forming at the edge of his consciousness even as yet again, Havoc tried to dissuade him.

"Boss, they're expecting us." He said. "Didn't you hear me?"

Edward shook his head ferociously. "You're wrong, Havoc. They know me, or, they think they do. They don't expect me to come for mustang because they know I have no attachment to the man whatsoever." There was a pause in which both Alphonse and Havoc looked at him incredulously, identical looks of disbelief on their faces. "Or that's what I'd like to say." Edward admitted sheepishly. "The truth is, you're right. They are expecting us, an army to storm the compound in a rage, or to try one of the battle tactics we've used on Mars in the past. They would wipe us out in one easy blow if we tried that."

"Which means we're going to do what Mustang told us?" Havoc asked hopefully, looking terrified at the prospect of returning to what he left.

"Hell no!" Edward said with a triumphant grin. He flapped his wings and threw the bed sheets off him. Alphonse and Havoc jumped, startled. He stood on his one leg, using his wings for balance and looked at them, a gleam in his golden eyes. "Though we will have to put grieving for our former comrades on hold, while there is a chance that one still lives we have to do everything we can to get him back. This is what a good commander should do." Speech finished, he tried to take a determined step forward, completely forgetting about his disability. Luckily, Alphonse was ready for it, standing in just the right spot to catch him.

"Brother!" Al warned, but Edward just beamed at him, no trace of sheepishness in his features.

"Take me to the prison quarters, little brother," He said, "I've got a girl to see about a leg."

* * *

.

* * *

_A/n: Hold your breath, folks. There's another chapter being typed up as we speak and should be finished in one or two days._

_I went to Adelaide to visit my folks and had a sudden writing bug. I filled up two whole exercise books full of drafts for chapters, and something original that I'm working on that I shouldn't be writing right now seeing as Uni starts again tomorrow._

_-Rattles the tin and just looks on with the puppy-dog eyes-_


	21. Opposite of War

With Alphonse's help, Edward managed to half-hop, half-fly out of the hospital ward, and down the short corridor to the main hall. Next came something more difficult, he balanced on the edge of the walkway that wound its way around the hall and made the best leap he could make with only one leg, flapping once and landing awkwardly on a tree branch. He nearly lost his balance, reaching out and grabbing hold of his little brother for support which was easily given. He felt weak, but it was reasonable, he'd been putting most of his energy stores into healing, after all. They progressed this way slowly throughout the Main Hall, Edward holding on to whatever he could with his hands to keep balance. The holding block was down a few levels from where they were, and on the other side of the hall, so it took them a fair while reach it.

Once there, Edward rested on the wall, panting furiously, feeling as though someone had pressed a hot iron to his injured leg. The first shadow of doubt made itself known on his consciousness, if it hurt this much to simply cross the hall, how would he manage on Earth?

He shoved the thought from his mind angrily.

"Brother," Al said after a moment, looking at him carefully, "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did." Edward replied, still trying to catch his breath and fight back the pain from his leg.

"What do you have planned?" Alphonse ignored the snide comment. "If you know that we are walking into a trap, why are you...?"

Edward grinned at his brother, but feared it was more a grimace than anything, his leg not stopping in its relentless throbbing. He straightened as best he could, and he would deny later that he left his hand on the wall to keep himself steady as he started a painful hop down the seemingly endless corridor. His wings ached from being cooped under him for three days and suddenly having use demanded of them. Gritting his teeth, he continued the awkward hop onwards. "Winry?" He called out, uncertain to which cell she was in. "I want to talk to you."

"Go away." A sulky and familiar female voice replied. He flinched at the coldness in the tone. "I've got nothing to say to an angel." He frowned, flapping his wings and pushing himself off the wall to get to the cage she was in. His leg gave a particularly painful throb and he winced once more, head spinning slightly. He landed unsteadily and caught the bars in front of him to push himself upright. Alphonse came striding up behind him, placing his hand out for support.

Edward peered into the cramped confines of the cage. It was dark, he could barely make out her outline, huddled in one corner and looking out at him. Her eyes were dull; there was none of the happy spark about her that she usually held.

"Hi!" He said, falsely bright and happy, grinning at her while leaning heavily on the bars of the cell and trying desperately not to at the same time. Anxiously, Alphonse stepped slightly back from the bars, sliding around behind Edward in case he fell. Edward assumed Al thought he was doing it discreetly. Edward returned his attention to the girl in the cell. "I need your help, Winry."

She glared at him so venomously, that he gulped, fearing an attack from her weapon of choice. It never came; she just turned her head away and glared at the wall instead of him. "No thankyou." She said as politely as possible. She sounded so not-Winry-ish that Edward was quite taken aback.

His eyebrows knitted together. "Winry?" He asked, confused. She was now doing her best to ignore him, sitting cross legged and not even bothering to look his way when he called her name. He tried to hide his confusion as best he could as he attempted a new track of conversation. "You need my help too, don't you? To get out of here?"

"No."

The tone was final. Edward frowned and pressed onwards anyway. "We can help each other. Let's help each other, Win'." He paused for a moment to allow her to reply, but she said nothing. There wasn't even recognition of her nickname. Sighing, he continued. "I'll take you home, you help me out, and we're even. Equivalency, see?"

Winry spun, stood and approached the bars so suddenly, Edward jerked back in surprise. Alphonse gripped him tightly to prevent him from falling. There was livid hate in her eyes, something Edward would have never expected in a thousand years. "Why should I help you?" She demanded, stopping just out of reach of the bars. "Why should I even trust you?" She spat at him, but it fell short, landing at his feet. A weight seemed to crush him, and he reeled back slightly, deeply hurt. She hadn't finished yet. "You're an angel." She said coldly. "You're evil."

Edward opened his mouth a few times, but his throat had stopped working. He swallowed. "I..."

"I don't want to talk to you." Winry said, turning to stalk back to her small cot.

"You're not being quite fair." Alphonse said to her. Edward shook his head at his brother, deciding on a different way to get Winry's compliance.

"Yeah, well, you don't have a choice in the matter." He snapped. "Just like I didn't have a choice in the matter every time you decided you wanted to hug me to death before I had wings." The girl flinched. She stopped where she was, but didn't turn back to face him. "As far as your freedom is concerned, I'm your only hope. I'm your only chance at ever seeing your Grandmother again." She turned to look at him and he frowned determinedly at her. "You're lower class, Winry. Everything you do will be ignored by the government. It's the way human society works. We both know this."

"Yeah, but what about you? Why are you so special as to order me around, _highness_?" She snapped at him, glaring.

Edward felt like he'd been hit with a physical blow. "You're lucky I have that influence, Winry." He said, speaking very politely and coldly. He kept his temper as well as possible; a hard feat considering it was threatening to boil over inside him. "If I was anything less, the avians would just leave you here to rot away. They can't see past the fact you don't have wings, any more than you can see past the fact that I do." He snarled at her. "And you're also bloody lucky that I haven't picked up that prejudice as well. So before you act all high and mighty at me, you might just want to consider your options here!"

"It seems to me that you _have_ picked up that prejudice, Edward." Winry returned icily. "I mean, blowing up buildings, stealing motorbikes... fighting battles that were never yours to begin with..."

Edward growled low in his throat. "I saved your life!" he barely managed to stop himself from yelling, "Twice!"

"In a mess you caused!" She snapped back.

He glared at her bitterly. "What did you expect me to do Winry, really? Tell me. I'm fucking interested." He wrapped his hands around the bars or her cell block. "Because, you know, I can really see myself Settling down and living comfortably in a world full of people who would _shoot me on sight._"

"It's always about you, isn't it Edward? You always get the big breaks. You always can heroically sweep in and save the day." She glared angrily at him. "And then you can go back to your pitiful little angsty world, not telling your psychiatrist a single important thing, and then moping that nothing changes. Everything's always about Edward and _his_ problems and the wonderful things _he_ has done in spite of that." She spat again. "No one ever concentrates on what other people do because we have to _pity_ the poor orphan who struggles on in spite of everything."

"You know nothing about my brother!" Alphonse yelled at her, wings sweeping forward both angrily and defensively.

"No!" Winry snapped, "_You_ know nothing about him! You don't know his deepest, darkest secrets. You don't know his fears! You don't know his hopes and dreams and you certainly don't know how easily he can betray someone." Her voice trailed off to a near whisper. "How easily he can break their hearts."

Edward froze for a moment. "Winry..." He said softly, reaching through the bars, uncertain what to say. He'd never expected something like that to come out of his best friend's mouth. The girl turned away from him, stalking to the darkest corner of her cell.

Slumping against the wall, she looked at them both. "I'm not going to help you." She said. "Find someone else to make you a new limb."

Edward closed his eyes, initiating an illusion. He knew to her that his wings faded, and his clothes took on the appearance of one of the outfits she had bought for him, a high necked, red shirt, Asian in design and made of soft silk on black cotton pants. The sleeves were long and wide, covering up his hands, which were gloved. "How am I any different to what I was, Winry?" He said it very softly, letting the illusion fade. She didn't respond, but he saw her body shake slightly as she tried to muffle a small hiccough.

He shook his head, turning away.

"Brother?" Al asked uncertainly.

His leg throbbed painfully and he cringed. "See that she's bound and bring her with us." He said without a trace of feeling.

"But brother, she said no!" Alphonse said.

"Yes, I know." Edward said, and a touch of sadness found its way to his voice even through him trying to hide it. "But her grandmother didn't."

He flapped his wings once to regain his balance and started the awkward hop to the other end of the corridor. He heard Alphonse sigh behind him, but he ignored it.

He was too busy trying to figure out a way to let Winry down easily to care about his brother's protests.

* * *

His leg was screaming at him to slow down, pain was rolling up his side and stabbing angrily at his temples, but he just couldn't slow down. He spiralled through the forests, darting around trees, breaking above the canopy every so often and looking at a sea of green before diving back through the leaves and screaming down so fast that if he had been one second later in breaking the dive he would have crashed and broken his neck. He kept going. He had to keep going. To stop was to think and to think was absolutely forbidden of him at the moment, because he would dwell on one of two things.

He was running away from his problems and he didn't care. He just suddenly didn't want the responsibility on his shoulders, it was all too much. He was only 16 and they expected the impossible of him!

All he wanted was to be safe. For Roy to be safe. For Winry to have not all but declared her love for him so that they could be best friends. He wanted the war to be over. He wanted Hughes to still be alive. He wanted Alphonse to tell him everything was alright.

He just wanted Roy with him.

And it was that thought that made him stop suddenly, just missing colliding with a tree. He shook his head to clear it, that thought had been haunting him far too often in the past few weeks for it to be fully normal. The throbbing pain running up what remained of his left leg slowly brought him back to the present. He took to the nearest tree, sitting on one of the lowest limbs he could find, balancing as best he could. He pressed his hand to his eyes, trying to alleviate the burning pressure he felt behind them. He needed Roy at a time like this, his mind was telling him. He needed the man to be there to support him. To yell at him, to insult him. He needed the man to tell him what to do and to smile at him when he did it right, and to smirk and blow it off when things didn't go quite according to plan.

He couldn't do thi... "Edward!" His head snapped up, darting around and looking for the source of the cry. "Edward! EdwardEdwardEdward!" He pinpointed the location of the noise and watched in amazement as Ana wormed her way out of a nearby shrub. She was disgustingly filthy, her original colouring lost under all the brown and black muck that she was covered in. Her hair had a few twigs and leaves in it and it was slightly longer than he remembered it being. There was fruit juice staining her lips and he realised that he was near where their food bowl was placed every day. She was bouncing with excitement, her cried of "Edward" rising in pitch to shrill shrieks.

Edward's heart felt like it would snap in two from the need to comfort and be comforted, to just simply be Edward again as he looked at her. She bounded to the tree, jumping at the bark excitedly, trying to get up to see him. He opened his wings and slid off the branch, landing in an undignified heap on the ground near her. Instantly she was rubbing her face against him, and getting him absolutely filthy. He laughed uncontrollably and ran his hand through her hair, the coarse feel of it under his fingers bringing him relief from the stress that had been building up in him for months without his realising.

She pulled away. "Edward." She said again, and he nodded, reaching out his hand to touch her. She stayed out of his reach no matter how much he tried to coax her over. "Edward, Edward listen. Listen." She said slowly and steadily, working the words out as articulately as possible. There was a rustling sound behind her, and Edward looked over her shoulder to see Nick emerging from the undergrowth, as filthy as Ana was. He took a position just behind Ana, not participating in his usual exuberant greeting. "Edward. Listen. Listen Edward. Edward Listen."

"I'm listening." Edward said, watching them both curiously.

"We sorry." Said Ana. "You Angel. Edward Angel. We know. From Start. Know from start." She made a keening noise. "We sorry. No time tell."

Nick made a motion with his head that could have been a nod of agreement. Edward wasn't sure. He looked at both of them, feeling the need to touch them and furious that they wouldn't come closer. "I figured as much." He said quietly to them. "It seemed too hard to believe that you wouldn't know."

Ana tilted her head to the side, clearly not comprehending. She tilted it back. "Not supposed to tell." She said as if it explained everything. "You not supposed to know." She gave a sound that could have been a laugh, bouncing up and down for a moment. "No tell, no know! WANTED TO TELL!" Her last statement was screeched and Edward jumped at its suddenness. "Wanted to tell. Wanted to know. Wanted."

Edward was trying his best to follow the disjointed speech. "You wanted to tell me I was an avian?" He asked, but she didn't understand him even then.

She seemed frustrated at being unable to think up the right words to use. To be unable to speak her message properly. Nick seemed equally frustrated, looking around as if searching for some way to explain it. "We want to say. They not want us to." Ana said. "They... They..." She shuddered. "They kill us." She shook her head suddenly and took on the appearance of thinking hard. "That. Wrong. Not kill. Not. Good as kill." She shook her head.

Edward felt something stab at his heart and reached out to her. She avoided his arm. "Listen Edward! LISTENLISTENLISTENLISTEN!" He quickly went back to his seated position, hand falling to his side in surprise.

At this point in the rather strange conversation, there was the thump of an avian landing behind him, and he turned, to see Alphonse standing there with Winry in front of him. Alphonse looked rather bewildered at the situation he found Edward currently in. "Brother...?"

Nick surged forward and Ana jumped up and down impatiently. "LISTEN!" She yelled and Edward returned his attention to her and her newfound ferocity. Alphonse moved forward, but was stopped by the other rabbit. Ana did her best to smile. "We Edward love." She frowned and paused a moment before shaking her head. "Not right. Not right." She made a frustrated noise. "We love Edward." She said, and then smiled brightly at her own success in getting the words out right. "Edward was son. We not hurt him. Never hurt. Never." Nick came to stand next to Edward, gently bumping his muzzle to Edward's wings. Edward simply stared, dumbfounded as Nick avoided touching his hurting leg with a gentle care, even as he stepped back.

"Edward only one." Ana announced. "Only one who can." She bounced impatiently and Nick stood just out of reach as if waiting for a cue. "Edward human. Edward Angel." Ana giggled. "Human angel human angel human angel angel human!" Edward simply stared. Nick slowly walked past him at this point and Edward watched in wonder as the large mutant gently head butted Alphonse's leg, and then the leg of his captive, Winry. "You only one who can." Ana said again. Alphonse and Winry looked as confused as Edward felt. "Humans. Angels. Together. Edward only one who can."

"But..." Said Edward, trying to dispel the constriction that had made itself known in his throat, "I'm just one person. What can I do to stop a war?"

Nick gave his equivalent of a proud smile, while Ana continued her speech behind him. "You are one person. Power of billions. Unlocked in you. You strongest. You only one." Ana moved to stand in front of him, a disturbingly knowing glint in her eyes. "You everyone wants."

"I don't know what you want from me!" Edward demanded, suddenly angry in the face of his confusion.

"Edward will know when time comes." Ana said, stepping away from him, and turning to walk back towards the underbrush. Nick stayed a moment longer, looking at Edward with the same unusually focused glint in his eyes that Ana had had.

"We... p...ppp... proud o...fffff... you." He stuttered out. He turned to follow his partner, leaving Edward open mouthed in amazement in their wake.

All was silent for a long moment, before Alphonse let go of Winry to help Edward up. The two other adolescents looked as shell-shocked as Edward felt.

* * *

"The engines are engaged, Brother. It's just a matter of your word now." Alphonse said from where he sat at the helm of the small transport vessel.

"Thank you." Edward said, looking around quickly to make sure everything was secure. He strapped himself tightly to his chair after finishing his double check and nodded. "Let's go." He said.

His leg throbbed and he grit his teeth as discreetly as possible in the current circumstance. The engines of the small vessel roared into life, making the ship rattle with their power. Winry made a distinct noise of complaint; Edward did his best to ignore her.

The screen at the front of the vessel lit up and an avian that Edward didn't recognise spoke to them. "The first set of vacuum doors have been closed. Opening outer hangar doors." There was a pause and then seemingly seamlessly, the doors in front of the ship opened slowly. "Good Luck." Said the avian on the screen, sounding like they truly thought they would need it. The channel closed.

"Launch ship!" Edward cried and they were forced back into their seats as Alphonse did just that. Focusing on the monitor, Edward watched the Tenshi fade as they slipped away from it, it became smaller and smaller on the backdrop of the red planet it was orbiting. He sighed and rubbed the still hurting stump of his leg. Alphonse looked over at him curiously.

"Brother?" The boy asked, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine!" Edward said, sounding falsely bright. He forced a smile for Alphonse's caring expression, cursing his momentary lack in lustre. 'Just a quick mission, right? Get the bastard, get a new leg, drop off Winry, and go home. Simple."

Alphonse wasn't buying it. "I asked you if you were alright, brother. Not for a false answer and a rundown of the mission." He said it almost rudely and Edward flinched. "I'm concerned." Alphonse continued, "You can't be as cheerful as you're pretending to be, it's just not right."

Edward blinked at him, stunned.

Alphonse sighed at him and explained. "There's just been too much happening today for it to not have had some effect on you, Brother. Mr. Hughes is dead! And the captain..." Alphonse shook his head sadly and returned his focus to the monitor. "Your hopes can't be any better than mine." He said sadly.

"He's not dead." Edward said quietly. "Mustang isn't dead."

"Even if he's not, Mr. Hughes still is. We'll never see him again, brother. You're acting like you don't even care." Alphonse sounded torn. "And what will happen if we get to Earth and the Captain is dead too? What will you do then? Cry once and then return to normal like you're trying to do here?"

"Mustang isn't dead." Edward repeated, somehow knowing that it was true in his gut. "I know he's not dead."

"No," said Alphonse, "You think he's not dead. You hope he's not dead. You don't know. But I do know this. You're acting like Mr. Hughes wasn't even important to you. We should be back home and grieving, brother! Not going to rescue someone who in all likelihood we won't ever see again."

Edward glared and gritted his teeth. "Alphonse Elric," He forced out between them, "Do not make the mistake of assuming I don't care that Hughes is no longer with us. Of course I do. It's hurting me as much as it's hurting you." He snarled. "I just know that while our captain is still alive I will not rest until he is back amongst our number. It's not the time for mourning yet. That time will come once everyone is safe and together and we can give him a proper memorial, with his best friend there."

"But Mustang betrayed you!" snapped Al. "I didn't want to have to be the one to say it but everyone has been thinking it. He betrayed you by going down there without permission and trying to do a prisoner swap that no one cared about."

"So he betrayed me because he tried to stop a war?" Edward demanded, looking at his brother's reflection in the monitor. "Is that it?"

"NO!" Cried Al. "He tried to kill you, Brother! He's done everything backhandedly since you've been on the ship!" Alphonse was yelling.

"Don't talk to Edward like that!" Winry said firmly.

"Don't talk to me at all, Human." Alphonse replied in an instant.

Edward frowned, and watched his argument with Al become one Al was having with Winry in the space of about three seconds. He sighed, "What is the opposite of war?" he asked quietly.

It came from just far enough out of left field, that Alphonse and Winry stopped bickering.

"The answer," Edward continued, his tones turning instructive, "Is not peace, but tolerance. What's so different between avians and humans? What makes it so we can't find peace within us, so we can't quiet that little voice that says 'different is dangerous?'" He looked out the window to the stars beyond. "Are we really that different if both our species find the stars beautiful and mystical, even though we know exactly how they work?"

There was a brief moment of silence before Al mumbled "I'm sorry." And returned to watching his screen and navigating the ship. Winry stared at Edward a moment longer.

"I'll make your leg, Edward." She said suddenly. "I think you're an idiot and you're going to do something stupid and dangerous and you might not survive, but you just reminded me something I had forgotten."

Edward looked at her. "What's that?" He asked, curiously.

"You're my best friend. No matter if you have wings or not. That and you're a complete and utter idiot who would go do this mission thing no matter what I say. So all that I can do is make you whole so you don't have too bad a disadvantage."

Edward laughed at her. But she hadn't finished talking yet.

"He went down to stop a war." She said quietly. "He was going to trade himself so you could live in peace. He did it because he loves you."

"You don't have to tell me that, Winry." Edward returned quietly, "I know."

* * *

.

* * *

_A/n: Recently, I've gotten a lot of people asking me (In emails, reviews and the like) why I called Riza "Lisa" in this fic._

_One, spell-check agrees with it, but more importantly, the real reason is consistency._

_See, when I started writing this fic, it was before the American dub had been released, so Riza's name hadn't been made official yet. There was much debate amongst fans and fan-subbers alike about what Riza's name was. _

_One argument was "The katakana spelling is "Riza" This is the spelling we shall use." This was a valid point._

_But I, like so many others argued that other Katakana spellings weren't used. We didn't see "Aruponsu" or "Edowaado Elerikku" or "Uinrii Rokuberu." (Occasionally you would see a Winly or a Winri, however.) This was because it was fairly obvious what the names really were. It was in dispute for a long while, was Riza's name Riza? Or was it Lisa? I thought it was the second one; it just seemed to make more sense._

_Funimation settled the argument quite effectively when they dubbed the series, making Riza the canon name. We who thought it was Lisa had a bit of a tantrum but eventually we got over it. By this time, I was well into writing and planning future chapters of AWWA. 'Lisa' had already made her first appearance and I was too lazy to go back and change the name for by then, I was already a few chapters in and in full swing._

_So, I decided that rather than go back and change the name in previous chapters, running the risk of missing one of the 'Lisa's' and managing to confuse people, I would just continue to use that name for this fiction, and switch to the now-canon name in any new fictions I started. I wanted to be consistent in this fiction at least to avoid confusion._

_My actions seem to have accidentally caused the confusion I wished to avoid, and for that I apologise. But now I just wanted to clear up the facts. Calling Riza Lisa was not a mistake on my part, nor was it a deliberate name change. It was a choice based on what I assumed was a logical deduction made before Funimation officialised the name. _

_I have watched and loved this series since long before it officially reached American shores (I was introduced to it around the time episode 10 was first aired in Japan,) and thus the name change was a very tough thing to remember at the best of times for me. I'm trying my best; however, sometimes old habits die hard._

_In other news:_

_Uni and new Manga make Haku a slow updater again. -Just recently bought the whole of both Jing: King of Bandits series'-_

_Leave a little review? -Shakes her tin and gives the puppy-dog eyes-_


	22. Time to Go

"Grandma!" Winry let out a whoop of joy as she bounded into the apartment complex, hunting out the arms of her small relative. Upon finding them, she zealously flung herself into an open embrace and both parties held onto each other like the world was falling about their heads. "I missed you so much!" said into the woman's shoulder, from where she was kneeling and clinging, her long blonde hair tailing on the ground behind her.

Pinnako was equally joyous, though slightly bewildered, hands playing with golden strands of hair as she said nothing, simply content to hold her returned granddaughter.

This scene was all watched by the brothers Elric, who stood in the doorway of the apartment, wings hidden, hands folded uncomfortably in front of them. They were both waiting in awkward silence to be noticed and reacquainted (Or introduced in Alphonse's case) with the old woman. Alphonse had his eyes cast outside the apartment like a sentry, watching in case someone should spring upon them suddenly.

Edward was-- looking about the apartment, noting small changes to the otherwise similar room. There were more pictures up on the wall, and cardboard boxes in the corner, stuffed with what looked like paper and his belongings. (He wasn't going to ask, Pinnako would tell him if she could unwrap herself from her Granddaughter for just a moment. He made an impatient noise.) He was partly lost in reminiscence, the smell of the apartment block as he had hopped slowly up the stairs to the flat plaguing his nose with urine and alcohol, not to mention countless other things, all disgusting, but so familiar he couldn't help but feel like there was a sense of his home about this place. There was the smell of tobacco plaguing the apartment. Pinnako had taken to smoking inside during his absence apparently.

He gave a frustrated and angry sigh and finally decided to break up the little reunion that had been preventing him from getting things done. "Mrs. Rockbell?" It came out almost shyly, which disappointed him; he'd been aiming for authorative. The woman jumped, startled as if she hadn't expected anyone else to be in the room. She looked over Winry's shoulder, dropped her hands, and stepped back. She removed her glasses and cleaned them before placing them back on.

He did his best to keep his balance and smiled sheepishly at the look the old woman was giving him. "I kinda need your help." He said, ready for a verbal beating.

"Saints be blessed!" Cried Pinnako, leaping forward to pull him into a hug equally as fierce as the one she gave Winry. "Edward! My dear child, you're alright!"

The fierceness of the hug had thrown Edward off balance and he toppled over.

From the ground, he heard Alphonse snicker.

* * *

"What ELSE did they say?" 

"Something about a key and something about gene locks and that's it I swear! Please stop looking at me like you want to kill me and eat my brethren, Mrs. Curtis. It's rather off putting."

Havoc trembled as Izumi cracked her knuckles threateningly above him. "And where is my son?" the housewife demanded, rope-like hair swaying in the artificial breeze. Her wings were folded deceptively calmly behind her, and Havoc thought he wasn't sure which was worse, the explosive and draining anger of Edward, or her calm seething. "And my student? Where is he?" She smiled dangerously. "Have you told them all of what you have told me?"

"I don't know, with him and not all of it, no! They disappeared before I got a chance to fill them in on the rest of it!" Izumi, for all she was several inches shorter than Havoc managed to loom over him then and he trembled. "Look, I've told you everything I know. I've already mentioned the fact I wasn't paying attention!" The man pleaded, trying his best not to sound terrified. "The human and Mustang were playing mind games and like I told the Boss, my brain shuts down when that starts to happen. So my guess is Edward's gotten something more out of the conversation than I did and is off tramping around the Earth countryside with his brother in tow." He frowned, starting to feel a bit more confident about his place in the world. "So instead of trying your best to scare me into submission, which while it may be satisfactory to you really won't help much, why don't we... I don't know... look for them?"

That was the longest sentence I do believe I've ever heard." Izumi said with a mildly impressed-by-your-stupidity look on her face, before she shook herself and rounded on Havoc again. He actually took a step back, only just managing to stop himself from shaking. It was at times like this that he had a little more respect for Alphonse and Edward for having to put up with this woman on a regular basis. "Look for them!" Izumi demanded and the man gulped, knowing that if she was really determined he wouldn't have much of a choice in the matter. "But before you GO look for them, I want you to tell me every last detail of this meeting. No matter how small and insignificant you think it is. Do you understand me?" She rounded on him again and he stepped backwards, wings coming around slightly defensively.

"I told you!" He whined bitterly, "I wasn't paying attention!" He realised he was shaking all over and fought to control it.

"You better hope your subconscious was." Izumi Curtis replied, the fury of a frightened mother fuelling her strength and determination.

Havoc trembled once, and then went back to cowering, praying that the woman would be kind to him.

He didn't have much hope in that though.

* * *

"Mrs. Rockbell, I..." 

"Auntie Pinnako." The woman sternly corrected him. "And tell your younger brother he can call me that too." Edward blinked at her from his precarious position on the edge of a rather high workbench in the sterilized prosthetics lab that belonged to the grandmother/daughter team. It had been a spare bedroom in the apartment and they had converted it to support their trade. They had a larger shop downtown, but for personal customers, it was easier to work from home.

Pinnako was studying Edward's leg stump curiously as he sat there, stripped down to white cotton boxers. "Just because you've been away for so long I thought you were dead doesn't mean you can escape your family ties, young man." It was funny how the woman behaved as if she hadn't even noticed the large, feathery appendages growing from Edward's sides.

"But..." Edward said, highly dazed from the reception he was receiving. He had expected a milder form of Winry's wild arm waving and yelling, or denial and disgust, but the woman had merely lit her pipe upon his unveiling of his wings, said something about expecting as much from the way that Ana and Nick behaved when he had acted oddly and gone back to preparing lunch from them all. There was nothing more said on the matter as they all sat and waited for their stew to finish cooking.

Pinnako sighed and looked at him, easily anticipating his objection. "Right. Seeing as you're so convinced there's a problem here, you little brat, let me set one thing straight. Angels, before you lot came along, were considered to be the heralds of God, commanding His saints and carrying His message to the people. Never once was it mentioned in the bible that they were evil or murderous or unkind. That is a stigma that gets applied to the enemy in any war. You have seen both sides and I believe that the Angels believe us as evil as humans see them."

Edward nodded at this, it was true.

"And boy, may I remind you that I fed and changed you when you were 5 months old. And I've watched you grow up, as an older brother to my granddaughter. If you were in any way evil, I would know by now." She frowned and Edward flushed with embarrassment. When Pinnako said it, it all seemed so obvious. "If you should ever turn out to be, or associate with evil," The woman continued sending a pointed look to Alphonse, hovering about the doorway, "I should very much be surprised."

Ed smiled. "Thank you, Auntie."

"Now." She lifted up his leg and tested its range of movement in her old, tobacco stained hands. "Does it hurt when I do this?" She prodded a pink and still healing area with her forefinger.

Edward gritted his teeth and pursed his tongue before finally managing to bite out "No." It was a lie and he knew that he wasn't fooling the old woman with it.

Pinnako laughed and made a quick note on a hand held computer that she carried with her at all times. It had all her patients' files on it. However, she had shuffled it out of sight before Edward had a chance to look so the information remained hidden. "And how long since you sustained the injury?" She asked as she took her place in a chair by the steel bench.

"Three days." Edward replied. "I think. I'm not sure of the exact amount as I was unconscious for a fair amount of it." He frowned thoughtfully. "So it could be anywhere from three to five really."

Pinnako's eyes widened considerably. "_Days_ you say, boy?" She frowned at him. "If that is a joke, my boy, it is a bad one to make. Injuries such as this one take months to heal, sometimes even years. Even then it is with horrendous amounts of scarring and most times skin grafting surgery." She pinned him down with a glare through her round glasses. "Boy, if your leg was burnt with flames so concentrated that they could rip flesh from bone this easily and precisely, it would have taken you three months at least to get it to this stage of healing."

"But it only happened in the last battle on Mars!" Edward insisted angrily, looking down at the woman below him like she had some sort of brain defect. "It's healed in that time. If you don't believe me, ask Al or Winry about it!"

Pinnako looked puzzled and held up her hands in a placating manner. "The last Mars battle took place only five days ago." She said. "There is no way a wound would heal this fast unless..." She frowned once more. "Hold out your hand." She reached for a scalpel nearby.

Edward did so, curiously and she, as quickly as a snake reached out and slashed his palm with the blade of the medical tool. With an enraged howl, Edward wrenched his hand back and Alphonse came barrelling into the ward only to come face to face with his brother clasping his hand quite pathetically to his chest, curled up in a tight ball on the end of the table.

Alphonse shook his head and walked out again, muttering something about his brother overreacting to the smallest little things.

"What was that for you old hag?" Edward demanded, still clutching his hand to his chest defensively, but slowly coming out of his curled ball. He glared at her, the very picture of indignation.

Pinnako merely tutted at him. "Give me your hand again."

"Like Hell I'll trust you with it again!" Edward nearly screamed at her.

"Shut up, you stupid _little_ brat and give me your hand!"

"In all politeness, fuck off you crazy old bat!"

"Tiny idiot!"

"Micro Hag!"

"Stupid ant!" Edward was too caught up in the insult war to notice Pinnako's hand slowly creeping out until it was too late and with a quick snatch, she once again had his wrist in her possession. This time the scalpel had been placed on the bench between them as the woman wrestled with him, eventually, her age-defying iron grip winning out over Edward's fierce struggles. She flipped the hand over, tapping his knuckles twice with her pipe. "Open." She said.

He did so, reluctantly, revealing a palm smeared with blood. Pinnako procured a damp cloth and wiped it away, revealing a hand marked only with a faint white scar where cut skin had been not thirty seconds ago. "Now." Said Pinnako, suddenly serious, "Is this an angel thing, or an Edward thing?"

"Truthfully, Auntie, I don't know." Ed replied, looking at his hand in wonder.

* * *

They stood on the balcony, two brothers in the cool breath of night, staring out over a city landscape once familiar to the older one. 

"It's nice. You have a family here." Said the younger and the older nodded and sighed.

"Yeah."

White wings beat against the cold night air, the moonlight glittering down through the smog and glinting off them, casting an eerie glow. The red of the older one looked like dried blood because of the smog.

"You could have lived here happily, you know." Alphonse said. "You never had to come with us."

Edward laughed. "And what would I have done when my adult wings came through? I wouldn't have been able to show myself anywhere, without cutting them off again." He frowned and leant on the rail of the balcony, makeshift prosthetic hooked around his real ankle. His wings were folded and he looked out into the night air at the glittering shield of atmos bugs that could have been stars but weren't. "Al, I'm going to have to leave tonight."

"I know, brother." Alphonse said. As little as he knew about the enigma that was Edward Elric, Alphonse had learnt about his brother's need to sever connections to move forward. Edward burnt old bridges before building new ones.

There was a quiet noise like a glass door sliding open but neither brother turned to look around, instead, staring out over the city and all the many sparkling lights that glinted cheerfully back at them. Edward's hair danced on the breeze.

He was wearing his coat. The red one. The one that he had been given upon his arrival in the ship. Alphonse was wearing a matching blue one and he thought of how appropriate that seemed. Fire and water, anger and calm, Iron and Copper. The night was doing strange things to his mind.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Winry's voice spoke from behind them and it did nothing to shatter the serene and surreal atmosphere that had surrounded the two brothers upon their stepping out onto the balcony.

"Yeah." Edward said in his non-committal way. His whole demeanour had been much the same. Far too casual about a life changing decision to go into a dangerous mission like this. "I'm leaving again."

Winry sighed and shook her head. "Don't do anything dangerous."

She sounded like a resigned lover. Alphonse felt a pang of jealousy which he'd later deny.

"And make my little sister cry?" Edward replied, not looking at her, but not looking anywhere, really. His eyes were forward and out of focus, his back to her and everything. Alphonse felt another level of conversation was going on beyond what he could hear, like there had been a development he had not been around to watch. He wondered if this was more ritual than anything real between the two.

"You'll make me cry if you leave." Winry scolded. "Even if you don't do anything dangerous." It was meant to be a joke. Something to lighten the mood, but the night stripped all colour from it. Alphonse turned to look at her, and her face was distraught and heartbroken all in one. She looked like she wanted to reach out and hold onto his brother and never let go. Alphonse resigned himself that he was an impostor on what was meant to be a fiercely private moment.

"I'm sorry." Edward still hadn't turned around. Alphonse could see his face from where he stood and wondered at the way it could be so carefully stripped of all emotion. He was struck by how much more like the Captain Edward was in this moment than ever before. "But you know why I have to go."

She nodded. It was a resigned action.

"I don't want you to be upset." Edward said quite suddenly. Alphonse started and so did Winry. It seemed the routine had suddenly broken. A breeze blew through before Edward said more. "But I can't help it, can I? What can I be for you, Winry?"

"There was a time when I thought you were totally insane." She said, looking at him. "Then there was a time when I thought you were a traitor and an evil person. What are you, Edward? Why are you so hard to read, even after I've known you my whole life?"

"I once said," Edward returned quietly and patiently, "That the world runs on electricity. That the world wouldn't know what to do when a black out struck."

"Which are you, Ed?" Winry asked, and Alphonse could tell just from her face alone that she was wishing for him to turn around and face her, maybe hold her and tell her that everything was alright. "Are you the electricity or the blackout? I don't know anymore."

Al saw him smile, but he didn't answer her.

It was a while before anyone spoke. And it was finally Winry who broke the silence. "Be safe." She said. "I can't stop you, but I can tell you to come home if you must."

He nodded, finally turning to face her. Surprising them all (even, by the looks of it, himself) he wrapped her up in a fierce, bone crushing hug and wrapped his wings around them both, eyes viced shut, breathing ragged. Her eyes slid shut and she made no move to hug him back. "Thankyou." He said, placing a gentle kiss to her cheek. It was a totally platonic action, more like a brother kissing a sister goodbye or in praise of their efforts. "Thank you so much for everything."

"Edward?" Winry looked as startled as Al felt.

"Bye, little sister." He said, turning away from her again.

"You've changed." She accused, and then her voice softened. "You'll come back, right?"

He didn't answer, instead, swept his wings open and flapped twice, taking off into the night. Alphonse quickly followed suit, looking back at the girl on the balcony who had fallen to her knees, slumped and with her hands pressed over her eyes.

"Goodbye, Winry." Edward muttered so quietly that Al wasn't sure he heard him. But Al couldn't hear much over the flames of a burning bridge.

* * *

.

* * *

_A/n: Argh. That last scene. So. Mushy._

_Sorry about that. The scene used to be more upbeat and lighthearted, but then I thought, that's not what it would really be like. Edward's about to go do a mission that in all honesty would be certain death for a normal person and Winry knows this._

_She wouldn't be happy about him leaving, she wouldn't be cracking jokes and trying to lighten up the mood. So the original scene got axed. _

_If there's enough interest I might post it and the other axed scene which featured the ship crew. But I couldn't put it here, because I've already dragged this on long enough and I'm sure you all want to know what happened to the big black idio... I mean... Roy... -cough-_

_And for you non-scientists: _

"_Iron and copper"_

_Copper when it oxidises goes a pretty green-blue colour, but depending on the purity of the copper this varies from bottle-green to bright blue. It also depends on whether the copper was copper 2 or copper 3 but I won't go into that side of things. Most commonly, however, it goes blue._

_Iron, when it oxidises goes either red or green. Red for iron 3 and green for iron 2. Iron 3 is far more common and stable, iron 2 only hangs about for a small while before it becomes iron 3 again. So most of the rust we see is red. _

_Red and blue. In case you didn't get the theme._

_-Is relying on her foggy memories of year 12 chemistry here, so that might be wrong-_

_Anyway. Leave a little review? -tin rattle-_


	23. Dare thou trust

The compound was brightly lit.

That was problem number one. Problem number one of about 30. There were guards patrolling, tripwires set up every few metres not to mention the cannon turrets and rather nasty looking motion sensors. Strange creatures patrolled the grounds, some odd combination of Doberman and cheetah to Edward's best guess while small machines hovered through the air with handheld weapons.

There even appeared to be more security precautions indoors should they make it past the gate. Edward sighed. "...If there's a bubble, I think I'll cry." He said, eyes darting around and searching for any gap at all in the defences. He shuffled slightly closer to Alphonse, the makeshift prosthetic leg he had creaking slightly at the knee joint. It wasn't up to Winry's usual standards at the least, however, it was only meant to be for a day or two while the real prosthetic had been constructed. Pinnako hadn't counted on Edward skipping out.

"I really should have planned this." Edward muttered to himself, ducking out of sight as one of the droids flew a little too close.

Alphonse waited for it to pass. "You shouldn't worry so much, Brother. The truth is, it's over secure, making it easy for us to get in." Alphonse looked forward smugly.

"I think you're overconfident." Edward replied sullenly, "Which is usually my job. What's gotten into you?"

Alphonse merely smiled at his brother, throwing a single rock onto one of the tripwires.

The effect was instantaneous and rather spectacular, Edward had to admit. The rock triggered the wire, resulting in a small explosion which had droids creatures and security guards swarming on it instantly. Not looking where they were going, the creatures set off a few more of the wires, causing all mayhem to break loose. As the humans tried to get the situation under control, Alphonse made a break for it, hoisting Edward (rather painfully) a long by his left arm. The prosthetic creaked underneath him and chafed at the still semi-raw leg joint that Edward had as they darted around the side of the building, pressed themselves against the wall and panted.

"What did I say?" Alphonse whispered, sounding rather out of breath. "Easy."

Edward frowned. "If you ask me," he said, not willing to give up the win, "It was too easy." He denied the fact he sounded distinctly sulky when he said that and began searching for a way in to the actual compound. "But I suppose this is meant to be a trap." He shook his head with a grin.

Alphonse sighed. "You just don't want to admit that I did good."

"Exactly." Edward replied, darting his eyes around and touching a hand to the wall.

Under his grip, a brick shifted and above them a hole about a metre by a metre opened when a fake panel slid to the left.

Alphonse frowned. "So what do we do now?"

Edward grinned. "Well, we spring their trap." He said, leaping up and snagging the bottom of the board with his right arm. He hoisted himself up and slid into the hole that appeared, hastily whispering for Al to come with him. The shaft was made of metal, and up ahead an iron grate announced it was for ventilation. He shuffled down the tube a bit and Alphonse shuffled in behind him.

"Are you sure about this?" Alphonse asked a little too loudly, earlier bravado gone. "What if we choose the wrong way and end up in a furnace or something?"

Edward harshly whispered "Quiet!" Then frowned as he started crawling arm over arm through the tunnel. "This is a trap." He repeated. "That means they don't want us to die yet. They won't even give us the chance of dying until they want us to."

"Surprisingly," Alphonse replied to that, "You're not giving me much confidence."

"Don't worry, Al." Edward kept moving forward, turning left at a side vent because it looked like the way ahead was clogged. "I won't let them so much as steal your lunch money." He swore he could hear Alphonse's disgusted facial expression and nearly started laughing.

For the first time in his life, Edward was almost too big to fit in the cramped space of the shaft. He had to hold his wings tightly against his body in a way that was totally uncomfortable and made one nearly threaten to seize up. Their centre joint still knocked painfully against the sides of the shaft occasionally and it was hard to muffle his angry swearing and annoyance at the hindering limbs. Whoever designed the wings needed to be shot, in Edward's eyes.

Alphonse too was having a hard time, judging by his silence. Coupled with having to look to one side lest he be confronted with a rather spectacular view of Edward's black-cotton clad rear end He was continually knocking his elbows and knees. Being physically bigger than Edward was having its toll on him, even if his wings were only infantile and smaller. But, being the quiet brother, Alphonse held his tongue as he struck his humorous against a grating and was rewarded with an arm-numbing pain. Alphonse was aware that shuffling through the grates like this was sure to create a lot of noise, and was just about to inform his overly-impatient brother of this fact, when up ahead of them, a grate opened and a human head appeared in the hole.

Edward was grateful for his brother's quick thinking as he felt the tug at the back of his mind that was Alphonse raising an illusion. The human head in front of them looked puzzled for a minute, Asian eyes widening as two angels just disappeared before her very eyes. Recognition struck Edward then, the human was the girl who up until recently had been a guest in the avian prison quarters. She gave a bitter laugh.

"I know you're there, even if I can't see you." She said, looking straight through them. Edward hoped that Alphonse had gotten the view of the vent behind them right and then shook his head. Edward, by way of precaution took out the gun that he had thought to bring along and trained it on the girl. He felt furious at being caught, even though he knew he was going to. "I am going to hereby put my life in your hands because no doubt you have something rather nasty trained on me that would not be nice to have fire."

The girl had an interesting way of talking, Edward noticed, almost childlike, but proper. Like she had been well trained to speak that way from birth. Edward remained silent and still and felt Alphonse doing the same behind him. He noticed just how cramped the vent was, and how there was no way of retreat from their position. He very nearly swore.

"My name," Continued the girl, "Is Ran. Do what you like with it." She sighed, looking not at all scared by her predicament. "However, if you choose to call it, I will take you to your comrade, Eagle-who-thinks-himself-a-fowl."

Edward blanched, knowing she couldn't see it and stared at her incredulously at the name. He felt Alphonse bristle behind him and kicked out gently to make sure that Alphonse stayed quiet. Taking a risk, he spoke up. "Why should I trust you?" He kicked out again to stop Alphonse from saying anything at that point.

The girl smiled softly and coaxingly at him. "You know you are walking into a trap, then, Mr. Angel, yet still you come deeper into the compound than escape permits?" She shook her head. "Not trusting me would be as good as your death, Mr. Angel, for it would mean that our trap has been sprung."

"And vice versa." Edward replied quickly. "Your words mean nothing." Alphonse shuffled behind him.

Ran sighed and dropped out of sight. "You have my word that you will have safe passage to your friend's cell, One-of-flight." She sounded sincere, but sincerity meant nothing. "If you are not satisfied by my word, I will let you continue on without notifying a guard. But you must know something if that is the path you should choose."

Edward shuffled over to the vent so he could look down at her, muffling the noise as best he could. He peered into the room and found that to his surprise she was alone, standing in the centre with no one around her. Ran was looking up at him from the ground as if she knew what he had done. Edward checked the illusion and saw that it was still holding strongly. The girl couldn't see him. "We humans had a project years ago after some rather intelligent person had the idea to defeat angels with an angel. This idea came after many years worth of searching through angel genetic data supplied unwittingly by a four year old specimen. The researchers discovered that angels have an infinite amount of amazing abilities stored in their genes, but have strange DNA strands that prevent them from accessing all but a few choice ones." Edward watched her carefully and saw her frown. "Those working on the project called it a gene lock. Two brilliant scientists by the names of Ana Carlton and Shou Tucker found a chemical formula that could unlock the suppressed DNA and created a two-dose injection to use on the angel child."

Edward had frozen at Ana's name.

"The first injection went as planned, Mr. Eagle, but there was an unexpected side effect to the needle. The child wound up sick for a month, in what was recorded to be excruciating amounts of pain. As a result, the child developed a violent fear of injection and the second shot was never administered. Not shortly after that, the head researcher, Nick Carlton developed cold feet about the whole project, claiming that the child was sentient and it was wrong to subject it to such cruelty. He refused to take further part in the experiment, so the people funding it saw fit to silence him and his wife."

She looked up at them very pointedly at that moment. "If the second injection were to be administered to the child, however, there would occur a being that still was bound by the rules of physics... but instead of being governed by them, would control them."

Edward shattered Alphonse's illusion and dropped down through the hole. There was an ache in his chest, right above his heart. He gave a brief consideration to the fact that the girl didn't even jump. "Why are you telling me this?" He demanded.

She held out a needle to him. It was filled with a golden liquid. "Because now you have a weapon against me, Mr. Angel." She smiled. "Do you have the courage to use it?"

He snatched the needle away from her as he felt Alphonse land on the ground beside him, still cloaked.

"Do you trust me now, Mr. Angel?" Ran asked, her face breaking into an unreadable smile. "Do you trust me that what I have given you is in actual fact the second dosage, and not a poison?"

Edward frowned. "Take me to Mustang." He said, "Or I'll try it on you to find out."

She flinched, then regained her composure.

* * *

She led the two brothers through a rabbit-warren of tunnels and turns, darting down corridors that seemingly appeared out of nowhere and skilfully avoiding the guards. Edward was finding it hard to keep pace on the leg he had, it was creaking somewhat ominously now, like it was threatening to give out at any moment. Winry had told him when she fitted it that it wouldn't take much strain, he just hadn't realised how little it really could take. Where it was connected to his real leg was also hurting as the structure rubbed and chafed his still raw skin. Ahead of him, Ran darted down another side corridor and he followed effortlessly, noticing that it was the third time the girl had taken this particular route. He wondered if she was trying to get him lost on purpose, or if she was avoiding guards and security cameras.

He suspected the first.

After another five minutes of the quick pace and constant turning, they approached a door with two guards placed on either side of it. Ran darted into the shadows, Edward following her and Alphonse just staying where he was, for he still refused to come out of being cloaked. He hadn't said anything since the brothers met up with the girl, and Edward believed that the girl didn't know he was there. Edward placed his hand in his coat pocket and fingered the small cylinder of liquid there. He shuddered, taking his hand out of his pocket again.

"We need to gain access into that room." Ran uttered quietly. Edward almost didn't hear her.

Alphonse had already spread his illusion over all three of them once more and Edward noticed Ran jump at the feeling of being cloaked. She wasn't as impervious as she had first seen at all, Edward quickly reassessed. Edward also glanced at Alphonse over his shoulder with a slightly confused expression.

"If what she said is true, brother," Alphonse said, "Then can we really trust your illusion control?"

Ran jumped again, and spun, looking behind Edward at Alphonse. He gave a sheepish smile, realising he'd blown his cover. He added a wave to gait her. Ran scowled fiercely and turned away.

Ed, in all honesty, was worried. He was trying his hardest not to show it, but kept jumping at even the smallest sounds as they made their way towards the guarded door. They stepped through to the next room, Alphonse making the guards believe that the door had not been opened at all, and muffling the sound when they closed it behind them. After giving a quick once over of the new room, Alphonse dropped the illusion cloaking them. Edward barely noticed this, caught up in his thoughts and his plans which were mostly being worked out as he went along. He wondered if any of the predictions he'd made were right and turned to face Ran, looking at the human girl. Ran stopped and pointed to the second exit the room had. It appeared to be a small guard house, with a vending machine in one corner and a table on which a pack of computerised cards lay abandoned. There was a monitor in the corner opposite them, which showed an empty hallway through which they had just come.

"Through there," Ran said, still pointing, "There is a corridor. You are looking for the last door on the left, it will be security locked with the password 'traitor'. You will find who you are looking for in there. However, you must go fast and go carefully; I cannot lead you any further than this point."

Alphonse immediately flared up in anger. "You're coming with us!" he demanded fiercely, "If you leave now, this whole compound will know we're here within five minutes!"

Edward looked at his younger brother and was momentarily amazed at his naïveté. "Al, don't be an idiot." He said, "This whole compound knew we were coming and knew we were here the moment you threw that rock. We're only here because they don't want us dead yet." He looked at Ran accusingly, "And if that didn't do it, Ran here took us through every tunnel with security devices she could find."

The girl in question sighed and lowered her head. "It was my part of this trap." She said, "But now I act as my conscience dictates and I let you go forward instead of killing you here. I will spill no further blood." She frowned. "I leave you with a dire warning, brothers angel, if the one with the Gabriel genes in him uses that injection you hold; there will be no place for him in any society. He will breed fear wherever he walks. It is his fate."

Edward looked at her incredulously. "We have to try to end the war." He said, and grasped his younger brother's wrist, dragging him to the door on the other side of the room and darting through it.

She called after him, "Good luck, Gabriel!" And then was gone.

* * *

Al stood outside the door as a sentry as Edward went into the cell at the end on the left. The room he entered was reasonably large and dark, however as soon as he stepped in, somewhere a switch flicked on and he was bathed in light.

Edward felt his breath catch in his throat. At the other side of the room was "Mustang!" He breathed, hardly daring to believe that what he was seeing was real. He took slow and shaky steps towards the avian, reeling in disgust at what he saw, and not moving any faster lest what he was seeing would shatter like a dream in the night. The man was about a foot in the air, and nailed to the wall by his black, nearly featherless wings. He was stripped down to a cloth that barely hid his privates, and there were ugly gashes and bruises all over his body, including a nasty one across his chest that looked like it would get infected, if it wasn't already. His hands were manacled to the ceiling above him; the strain of his weight had dislocated his shoulders. His face was slumped forward, his fingers broken and his dark hair matted with dried blood. Edward took to the air and reached up to touch the man's face, which was all too pale. He brushed a lock of hair out of the unconscious man's eyes. "Roy." He breathed again, assured that the man was still alive only by the weak gust of air that touched his fingers when they paused near the man's lips.

There came a small groan from above him, when Edward turned to inspecting the man's chest wound. It was so quiet and he would have thought he had imagined it if it were not for what came after. "Ed... ward?" He heard the man above him whisper and he looked up to meet dull black eyes.

And before he knew what was doing, Edward had kissed him.

* * *

* * *

_A/n: Okay. I'm sorry. I know leaving it there was evil and heartless (Hee. Heartless... Wait, wrong fandom.) But mushy kiss scenes aren't my thing. I can't write them. At all. I am le suck at writing kisses. (However, give me a scene with lots of blood and gore and I'm fine. Funny the way the world works.)_

_Put your own kiss here. _

_So now you know what happened to Roy. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW? HE'S NOT DEAD!_

_-Gets beaten up anyway for torturing him and nailing him to a wall- _

_Umm... yeah. Next chapter is already about 1/3 written, but it was written AGES ago and my writing was crap back then so I've got a crapload of fixing to do. (Also, the original plot it was written for and the one that finally eventuated are a wee bit different. So I've gotta fix up the gaps.)_

_But damn. There's only next chapter and the one after to go, folks. (This may become three chapters, depending on how long one of the scenes goes next chapter.)_

_Leave a little review? -Shakes can and gives the pleasedon'thurtme look-_


	24. To the End

**To the end**

(_A/n: Before I begin. I just want to apologize for 1. The fact it's taken me so long to get this new chapter out and 2. The shoddy quality of said chapter. The reason for the first I'll explain in my end author's notes, but for the second I say the following: If you don't want to loose some work you've spent hours on and just gotten perfect merely because STUPID WINDOWS restarts on you (All by itself. I didn't even press a button.) – save regularly. I wish I had a Mac. Then I wouldn't have these problems. Because of my inherent laziness and the fact I can't really remember the fine details of what I wrote, I'm a bit discouraged, so this chapter will probably seem a bit shoddy.)_

Darkness, and a sound of feathers on feathers. A small baby wrapped in a bundle of blue cloth, its wings just barely peeking out over the edge, soft white feathers clearly visible. A few months old, if even. A large canyon, a woman with his own black hair and eyes whispering something to him as he turned away. A boy, with blond hair and shining gold eyes kissing him so very, very softly and sweetly, like someone who had never kissed before and wasn't quite sure how. Memories came disjointed to Roy as he slowly regained his consciousness. Disorientation, next. His head felt empty, drained, and unconnected to anything, a solid in a world where he was so used to there being flux. He groaned and tried to stretch out with his mind but encountered walls on all sides, no thoughts or memories of others leaking through the gaps.

The world around him was silent and smelt of nothing. It occurred to Roy that gravity wasn't working on him the same way that it had been before he'd passed out – and then that this must be because he was now lying down. Like a diver coming to the surface of a deep pool, Roy Mustang forced his eyelids open and took a great gulping breath of air. His senses came back in a world of flooding light.

Alphonse was seated over him, holding a damp cloth to his forehead, and gently wiping away any beads of sweat that formed on his brow. Roy couldn't see the boy's brother but had a vague sense that Edward was in the room with them, probably to one side and leaning against the wall, staying away from his 'commander' for as long as possible.

Very slowly, Roy tried to move his arms and winced at the stabbing pain that shot through them. His limbs all felt like lead, but by far his arms were the worst, a throbbing ache in his shoulders paralyzing them. Finding his voice, finally, he looked at the boy above him with no small degree of helplessness. "Alphonse," He said, "I want to sit up."

Alphonse jumped – he had not realized that Mustang was actually awake, but then gulped, casting a wary eye over to the other side of the room. Mustang tried, but couldn't turn his head to look due to the stress on his shoulders and sighed. "Please, Alphonse. Let me up."

Al seemed to have a brief wordless conversation with whatever he was looking at, expressions changing in a blink of an eye before finally he nodded and – very gently – placed his hands underneath Roy's back to lever the man upwards. With a grunt of effort and a slight strain on his stomach muscles, Roy was hoisted up and leant against the back of the couch that he was lying on.

There was a vending machine in the corner of the room he was situated in – along with a sink and a few mugs on the counter. The couch was large, but slightly old and lumpy, and there was a table in the centre of the room surrounded by plastic chairs. He was in some sort of common room, and a small area of destruction in the corner announced all that had remained of the security devices present. Edward was leaning against the far wall of the room, next to a small refrigerator. His wings were folded stiffly, and he was focusing everywhere he could but directly at Mustang. His bangs were ruffled, like he had constantly been running his hands through them over the past few minutes and there was something terse in the way he held himself, deliberately favoring his… wait.

His left leg?

Seeing Roy's expression upon viewing the limb, Alphonse rushed to explain. "We went to his automail supplier; they fitted him with a wooden leg for the journey."

Roy nodded, accepting that and noticed that the pain in his arms was fading more with every moment, and that there was no pain at all in his chest. Looking down, he saw a shiny white scar where the large slash across his chest used to be. Roy frowned. "What's going on, you two. Explain."

Edward shifted uncomfortably on the wall, but said nothing, seemingly preferring to stare across at the wall as if it were fascinating. Alphonse made a worried noise and looked across at his brother before shaking his head. "I can't tell you if brother doesn't want me to." Edward made no move.

"I order you to tell me!" Mustang demanded, snarling. "No one heals that fast and if the humans did something to my body I have a right to know."

"There are three things wrong with that statement." Edward said, finally looking up. His eyes were filled with a thousand shades of hurt and betrayal, anger and bitterness. Roy recoiled backwards. "One." He said, his voice toneless as he straightened up and began to limp across the hallway, "You are a traitor to the crown. I don't have to obey any order you give me. Two, I heal that fast and three, the humans didn't do it. I did."

Roy recoiled as Edward walked forward, something more in his eyes than a betrayal of the 'crown.' Lightning crackled about his feet, but it was different to the uncontrolled bolts that he had released before. It was focused somehow, centered and almost orderly. "What do you mean, 'I did'?" Mustang snapped, glaring back and noticing his shoulders were moving almost freely now.

"I did it, Mustang. That's all you need to know. Have a taste of your own medicine for once."

"There's no need to snap." Mustang said. "I just want to know how you can possibly explain to me why you're here and how you healed me. I explicitly told you not to follow me."

"And I've already told you why I don't have to answer that." Edward shot back, glowering and folding his arms across his chest. "So now you know how I felt when you ran off and did shit behind my back all those times."

"Stop being such a child!" Roy shot back. "You get left out of a few loops, it happens!"

"Yeah, and now it's happening to you!"

"ENOUGH!" Alphonse yelled, waving his arms and flailing his wings in exasperation. "I don't want to send you to separate corners, but I will if I have to! Cap…. Mustang. Sit there, be quiet and wait for whatever it was that Brother did to finish working. Meanwhile. Brother, you will sit there and explain just what is going on to the both of us."

Edward shook his head. "No I won't. I don't have to obey either of you." He bristled and turned his back so that all they could see of him was a gold braid on a mass of red cloth and feathers.

Mustang sighed and reigned in his temper. "Edward…" The young man kept his back turned. "Edward, why are you so upset at me?"

Still no answer, but the young man's shoulders shook with what looked like a suppressed sob.

"Ed… please. Tell me this; I have a right to know this at least." Anything. Anything to understand just what was going on. "Why did you come?"

"…because you told me not to." Edward said, a hitch in his voice. He turned very, very slowly, and the lightning around him faded. "You told me not to come get you when you were the one who came and got me. You were the only one who didn't give up on me." The tears were starting to trickle down Edward's face now, taking both Mustang and Alphonse aback. "You told me to give up on you! You… You… You hypocrite! How could you!" Edward flung himself at Mustang then, and by instinct, the man brought his arms up to catch him. Edward's fists beat weakly upon Mustang's chest as he spoke. "You liar! You said you'd let me come away with you! Then you left! You…You…" Edward hiccoughed and stopped hitting the man's chest. "You left me. You said you'd never leave me."

Roy was, probably for one of the first few times in his life, caught speechless. He merely wrapped his arms around Edward's shoulders and held on tight, for something told him that was all the young man really needed.

"Everyone leaves me." Edward mumbled. "Or I leave them before they can. It's always about leaving. Always."

"I won't leave you anymore. I'll be with you to the end."

Edward struggled then, and forced himself out of Roy's grip, standing back and glaring at him. "How can you say that!" He demanded angrily, pointing at him. "You've never taken me seriously, why should you start now? The only thing you've ever done is kept me in the dark, and you know what, I think I figured out why."

Mustang paused and stared at Edward, his compose breaking almost enough for his jaw to drop.

"Yeah, Mustang. I figured it out. What do you say to that, huh?"

Mustang felt his eyes narrow, and he wasn't sure he wanted to see the expression on his face. He knew it was not something that he would have liked to have put there. "Explain." He said, icily.

"I figured it out." Edward repeated, before looking over at Alphonse. "Hey, Al? What's the one thing that's really been unusual about this whole incident? Like, the whole war after I came along?"

Alphonse jumped, so did Roy – he had forgotten that the boy was there. The boy looked perplexed as he thought for a moment, then like a light dawning, he said, "Oh… The fact we didn't go home after we found you!"

Roy's expression twisted, as did his stomach. Edward couldn't have been thinking what he thought Edward was thinking, could he?

Edward nodded to Al's statement. "Exactly. Why not just… go back where the Avians came from once they had their prince? The only reasonable explanation is that Mustang knew something the rest of the ship didn't. what he knew was that they couldn't go home."

"Of course we couldn't!" Mustang snapped. "We didn't have you to take back with us."

""That doesn't explain why you didn't take the ship home after you found me." Edward replied quietly. "I don't think you were originally going to look for me at all. Something else made it impossible for you to go back, Mustang. What was it?"

Sighing and lowering his eyes, Roy admitted, "You're right. We were… lost after a magnetic storm struck the ship. No one who was around in that storm knows what happened, for the whole crew lost consciousness. When we came to, we were… Next to Earth. That's all I know. Even if I knew where we were, how would I start to know where to go back to? What direction to look and how the hell we managed to jump the light-years it took to get here in the first place?"

"And so, you invaded Mars."

"We didn't invade! We counter-attacked the first fight. We needed somewhere to LIVE, Edward. And Mars was the sensible option!"

"Yeah, that's a point. But once you realized that the humans weren't going to give up Mars without a fight, you realized something else, didn't you? That the Avians would loose."

"But we were winning!" Alphonse interjected sharply. "Every battle we won with limited casualties!"

"But there were casualties." Edward pointed out, sighing. "And the humans could afford a lot more of those than the avians could. Do the math, Al. 2000 odd avians against over 8 billion humans. Who do you think would win? Even if for every avian that fell, 100 humans died, that's still only two-hundred-thousand humans before the avians were wiped out. So, Mustang needed something. Something that meant they could ensure they gained the planet."

Edward paused here, looking at Roy with lividity. "You found it, didn't you. The key you needed."

Roy shook his head. "No. It wasn't the key." He had a strong feeling about where Edward's reasoning was going.

"Well, it was something that would provide to you a solution! You found the Gabriel reports, didn't you?!"

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Roy replied, "Yes. I did." Then, he looked Edward in the eye. "But it was in relation to my search for you. It was a mere coincidence that you and Gabriel were the same person."

"But that doesn't change the fact that you used that information!"

"No. You're wrong, Edward." Roy folded his hands in front of him, and closed his eyes. "I was going to use the information, yes. I was even going so far as to give you over to the humans to secure the planet. But… I…" Roy paused and took a deep breath. There was only one way to clear this now. "My plan changed. I thought that I could convince the Earth government to consider me an alternate to yourself."

There was a pause in which Edward drew in a sharp breath.

"But… Why?"

"Honestly I don't know. There are so many possible reasons that I can't just pick one." Mustang said, taking the moment to stand now that he felt well enough to. "They didn't take too well to the deal, obviously."

Edward nodded. "Of course they didn't." and then he looked up. "It's because I can do anything. Anything at all." Edward closed his eyes and then looked directly at Roy. "I can control the laws of physics."

Roy had to quell his horror at what that implied before he quietly said, "Edward, tell me what you've done."

* * *

_A/n: Okay. So. WHY HASN'T AWWA BEEN UPDATED IN SO LONG?_

_Well, the answer is as follows. AWWA HAS been updated, but not in the way that meant I could post it on I'm finally going to divulge the little secret behind this fanfiction._

_The secret is AWWA actually isn't a fanfiction at all. (No, this does not mean I claim I own FMA, hear me out.) The official version of AWWA that sits on my hard drive stars Lief Alexanders – Not Edward Elric. (Those of you watching my Deviantart account will have noticed a bunch of pictures propping up marked AWWA when they seem to have no relation to AWWA at all. This is why.) The fiction gets changed, truncated, played with so much that what you see here is not actually the full story. Only a branch thereof. There are many omitted scenes and little details that while not essential to the story, form a part of a greater whole. And the most important difference between the two versions is that the characters have been changed from my own original characters, to the cast of FMA. (This also means I've had to edit scenes to reflect the changed personalities of the characters.)_

_This original version of the fiction, not the fanfiction version, is the one I have been working on for the simple reason that there's a high probability that AWWA will get published. I've already had one publisher express an interest in obtaining the manuscript. I apologise for the long break in the fiction – however, I feel the break was necessary for separating Lief and Edward's characters in my mind. They were becoming too merged and similar, when that's not what they're like at all._

_As for an experiment, this gave me a lot of thought. For me to see a project to completion, I do need a LOT of feedback, which is why I posted this fic on the net in the first place, (changing it just enough so that it couldn't be copied and stolen.) however, I don't think that I could do something like this again – for me, MY version of AWWA has been slightly spoiled by the fact that I'm now constantly drawing parallels between MY characters and the characters of FMA. While very different, I can't help but feel that they 'borrow' some of the character traits from their FMA counterparts even though all were created and fully profiled before AWWA even took on a Fullmetal twist. _

_As such – I will NOT post the sequel to this fanfiction on I apologize for this, but AWWA really ISN'T a fanfiction, and to turn it into such was a mistake on my part. I will have to rely on sources closer to home to get my feedback._

_As for when AWWA comes out in print? (Or even if?) At this point in time I'm unsure. If you send me your email addresses, I will keep you updated on the development. It's in my experience that no one reads Author bios, and Author Note chapters aren't allowed – so posting either of these would be useless at best._

_Once again, I apologize for the long delay, and thank you for your patience. _

_Please leave a little review? –puppyeyes and rattles tin- (Also: AWWA has a buddy map. You can access it from my profile if you wish to sign it. If anyone lurks for this fiction, they should sign it too! I want to know who all of my readers are!!)_


	25. The Final Flight

The room was silent for a long moment. The vending machine in the corner let out a long, shuddering whine and switched itself off.

"I took the injection." Edward clarified. "While you were unconscious and Al was out of the room." He didn't look embarrassed about it, nor was he apologizing – he was just stating the facts as they were, completely tonelessly.

Furiously, Roy pushed forward to stand up, but Al forced him back down onto the couch again, his eyes focused on his brother, a look of shock on his round face. He hadn't known either.

"I had to. You don't understand. They were coming and I panicked. It was just a shot – just a needle. I had to. They're still coming, still trying to find us, but we're here and we're hidden and we're safe. For now." He gave a weak laugh. "You won't believe how amazing it is, Roy. It's fantastic. I can do anything I want. Anything." His voice was still dead – it was starting to scare Roy.

The man growled, and shoved at Alphonse's hand, pushing the boy away and sitting up with relative ease. He sat up, wings coming up on either side of him, feathers bristling. Edward looked at him, doe-eyes wide and not at all reproachful. The look was so unlike him that Roy shuddered, reaching out to touch his hand against Edwards. The boy flinched violently away, glaring at him and being Edward for a moment before once again the stranger overtook him and he went quiet and complacent. "Ed, you need to tell me what the needle did to you." He wouldn't admit it, but he was worried, and there was something altogether odd about the way Edward was acting. "What's wrong with you?"

It was in that moment that Edward cast a fearful look at him and Roy felt his protective instincts engage in a way that hadn't happened for anyone he had ever met before. It was in that instant, more than any other that he realized he wanted to protect Ed, and not just because he was the fabled prince. There were two of those, it wasn't as important as it used to be.

But there was only one Edward. Loud, brash, gold-eyed Edward, who was fourteen years younger and seven centimetres shorter than him and for the first time in his whole life, they were trivial concerns. Nothing was as important to him as gold hair and red wings and a fiery temper set loose in tanned skin. And it was in the way Edward looked at him sometimes, just sometimes when he thought Roy wasn't looking, and the way that Roy shamelessly looked back when he knew that Edward was.

It was their relationship – full of bloody fighting and verbal war, more hard looks than soft ones, and battle and enmity and none of the things that Roy had ever looked for in the perfect match. It just went to show him that one didn't know what was right for them until they found it. So Roy frowned at Ed and reached forward to loosely take the boy's hand. "Ed." He said breathlessly, "Tell me what's wrong."

The boy didn't pull away, but Roy was holding his hand such that he could at any moment if he chose to. "The needle. It unlocked all the abilities. It hurts, Roy, it hurts." Edwards small sob was more terrifying to Roy than anything that the man had ever heard in his life. "It's like fire. Through all my veins, and thoughts are pouring in from everywhere and I can't control them. And it's like ice in my heart and like I'm bleeding from every pore and never going dry. It hurts."

Roy gamely reached up to touch Edwards hair and the boy didn't pull away, pressed into the touch. "It's like every sadness you've ever felt in your head." Roy whispered. "All at once and they won't go away because people don't have happy thoughts or feelings nearly as often as sad ones."

"How do you cope with it?" Ed sobbed. "How do you make it stop?"

"You don't." Roy said, feeling terrible and wishing that he could make it better for Ed. "It's always there, always making you feel guilty and dirty and hollow." Edward took a step forward, Roy untangled his hand from Ed's and placed it on the boy's hip. He had forgotten Al's presence, but the boy was surreptiously studying the lounge room cupboards to give them at least some privacy. Alphonse was always too clever for his own good. "But every so often, something good happens amongst the bad and you learn to focus on those and the bad doesn't seem as terrible." He smiled. "And if there are no good thoughts, there are always good memories. Like when you kissed me, do you remember that?"

Al gave a scandalized little cry, then went back to studiously not paying attention. Edward gave a wet laugh. "Yeah." He whispered, "That was nice."

Roy returned the laugh. "We're going to have to do it again some time."

Edward frowned, turned his head away, and Roy thought he'd said the wrong thing, was panicking about it, (Which was so unlike him that it caused him to start for a moment) until Edward whispered, "We will. But not for a long time."

Roy flinched.

Edward looked straight at him. "We won't see each other after today for a very long time."

"No, Ed. Don't be silly." He said, "We'll get out of here alive, all three of us and we'll live long, happy lives together. You, me, Alphonse, Winry, Lisa, all of us. And no matter what happens, I'll always come back for you – no matter how long it takes, two minutes or two years, I'll come back."

Edward leaned forward, onto him. "You promise?" He asked, his voice almost childish.

It seemed like such a stupid thing, something that was no more than a childish fantasy, but this was Ed, and Ed always worked on two levels, no matter what happened in his life. It had taken Roy too long, far too long to realize this, and he thought, about what Ed knew, about the situation and he smiled. "I promise." He said.

Mustangs never lie. He wrapped his arms around Edward and held on for all his worth.

* * *

They needed to move. Edward felt them coming, slimy apes with guns loaded, causing tremors through the ground, faint but coming closer, always closer. It wouldn't be long until they worked out where they were, Edward felt them thinking, felt the cogs turning, felt them coming to realization. He wondered if this was how Mustang felt all the time and wondered how the man handled it. He was still wrapped in said man's arms, feeling a small comfort amongst greater fears, and even Al's tutting couldn't get him to move from the embrace.

Mustang had promised him, but it didn't matter. They weren't coming out of this together.

He wrenched away from Mustang's grip, turning his back on the man and gathering his composure. There was a fight coming, he knew it, even though he didn't quite know how. His body was still burning, but it was ebbing now as his muscles stretched and shifted themselves and his mind learnt to accommodate to the new strange strengths he had. He frowned. "We need to go." He said, though he was reluctant to leave, "They're coming for us and we're not very secure here." Mustang stood behind him, and Alphonse gave a little cough.

"With all respect, Brother, The Captain still went against your orders and committed treason." He said. Edward sighed, his brother was ever the diplomat, even in the situations where nothing was going according to plan and everything would have to be thought up on the run. "Why we even bothered to rescue him I don't…"

"We rescued him because I said so." Edward snapped, fully aware that it was the complete truth. It was a funny time to become so aware of his powers in this situation, funny how easily he could turn to anarchy if he wanted to.

A bizarre thought crossed his mind; he felt like a parent.

He looked around the room for anything that could be used as a weapon, but finding nothing. He would have to rely on his strange new abilities and Roy's fire to get him out of this, resources which he didn't fully know the capacities of and therefore couldn't quite trust. He felt Roy's touch on his arm and was profoundly grateful for it. "It's alright." The man said. "I know my capacities, so we won't use yours unless we have to."

"Cloak us, Al." Was his reply.

He felt the familiar feeling of illusionment wash over him as he moved towards the door of the little lunchroom. The guns were coming closer, the vast majority of him was terrified, the rest struggling to hide it behind a mask of impassiveness. They were shouting in his brain and he tried to think of happier things, and not the fear that was leaking off Al, or the calm indifference of a soldier that Roy embodied. He closed his mind and opened the door, stepping into the corridor, the others on his heels.

They ran, hardly knowing the way and Roy still not completely fit to, they ran down as many twisting passages as they could, Edward keeping his hand to the right wall so that they could escape from the rabbit-warren passages like it were a hedge maze. People whirred past, the illusion working perfectly on them as mounted guns were dispatched of with a quick snap of Roy's fingers before they even had a chance to fire. He was leading, and he didn't know why, when Roy was so much more qualified to do so, but he didn't question it, stepping over a fallen water cooler and pressing his wings as tight as possible to his chest.

A feeling like warm honey enveloped his brain as an explosion went off outside the compound. He knew it was Lisa, though he couldn't quite say how, and then he started recognizing the thoughts of other avians as well, Havoc, Breda, Feury, even that one muscle man with the sparkles who Ed thought was called Armstrong but wasn't quite sure. Roy's hand was pushing at him slightly and he realized with horror that he'd stopped running, and that he better start again or the masses would know where they were, even without being able to see them. Even if they couldn't be seen, people could still run into them, which would totally ruin the element of surprise.

Gunfire prattled outside, and he heard it as clear as if it were happening a room over. Even Izumi was fighting, even Sieg was putting his life on the line, and Ed realized suddenly that they were doing it solely to get him back.

And then, just as clearly, "This war's over me, isn't it?"

Roy didn't reply, but he tensed for a moment and stumbled, staggering upright and starting off again down the path. There was a doorway up ahead, clearly marked as an exit point and Edward frowned, compressing air behind it to blast it open.

It worked, but a sharp pain shot down the right side of his head, and he hissed and clutched at it, wiping his eyes where they teared up from a mixture of dust and pain. They were out on the surface of the planet, no longer surrounded by metal and security devices.

And everything seemed to freeze in an instant, then it came like snapshots to him, each more frightening than the last.

It was the first battle that Edward had ever seen up close – the first fair fight. Dead bodies were strewn across the ground, Avian and human alike, all lifeless and unmoving. Severed limbs were scattered, bodies were blackened by lightning, drowned standing up or simply peppered with bullet holes. He saw Falman's body and couldn't quite bring himself to look at it – the kindly avian had given him a hot chocolate to calm his nerves when he first boarded the fleet ship, and he had thrown it away, not trusting the man and thinking it was poison. Lisa was taking out as many humans as it was physically possible for her to do so, but he could see that she was tiring, and soon someone would get in a lucky shot and she would fall.

Poor Feury, young and childish and too young in spirit to be in the army was the one electrocuting humans. They were falling as strike after strike of lightning appeared out of no-where and took them out.

Behind him, Roy snapped his fingers and a huge pillar of flame shot out, and with each agonizing scream Edward received both a wave of mental pain, and a sudden cease of all emotions into black nothingness. Roy was nothing but a cold shell behind him, filled with remorse and sorrow. Edward was feeling exactly what he was, and wondered how the man could stand it, because he was the one causing it.

There were great and terrible beasts rampaging amongst the bodies, some were feasting on the flesh like carrion, others were stalking and hunting their own prey from both sides, and these were what people seemed to be taking out first, the fear that even once a side won this battle, they would still be killed by the monsters. They were not chivalrous or brave when killing the creatures, if one was attacking someone of the other side, they would leave it, until the person was dead, and then cut it down from behind. Lividity, hatred and pain came from all sides and Edward's eyes went wild as he felt Al throw himself into the battle behind him, as yet more humans came pouring out of the compounds and avians from their ships. Roy's fire was burning everything in sight, flame and explosions and gunfire pressed on him from all sides, and the dawning thought that both sides were fighting to keep him, to own him was enough to drive him to desperation.

He didn't want the fighting.

He didn't want the screams and the blood and the fire.

He didn't want people dying as unnecessarily as they were, as they had been for the past fifteen years.

He wanted a blanket and a mug of cocoa and for Ana to embrace him and tell him that everything was alright, that everything would work out in the end and that the world was a good and gentle place.

Chasing on the heels of that thought was another. That at the end of the day, he would be captured or dead, that everything was not alright and had never been alright for him, and it wasn't fair. He closed his eyes, put power into his vocal chords and clapped his hands, slamming them into the ground in front of him. He wanted it to be fair, but more than that, he wanted the war to end.

"ENOUGH." He yelled, stepping forward, the crackle of electricity spiraling through the ground and physically forcing avian and human apart. It wouldn't stop them, avians could fly, but it would be enough for what he wanted. "I've had it with you lot!"

There was a pause, and everyone looked at him. A stray shot was fired, but it ricocheted from some invisible barrier before it even touched him. They turned, looked ready to start fighting again, but Edward shouted once more and they were stopped merely by the strength of it. He made avian wings like lead, and human guns break, just to make sure.

"Honestly." He said, not knowing how to continue after his initial outburst. "You're like children, fighting over a toy." He frowned and looked around at them. "And if I'm the only one of you who can be an adult about this, then that's what I'll bloody well be." The silence that followed this bizarre statement was punctured only by the groans of wounded and dying men. "What should I do, to get you to get along, huh? Blow up Mars? Will that work or will you only start fighting about who belongs to Earth next? Idiots. I should get rid of Mars right now, and then while I'm at it, I'll get rid of myself, if you've all got it in your head that I'm some sort of weapon." He was ranting now, bottled anger all coming out at once. "I'm not sure how many of you have actually noticed, but I'm not something to fight over. I'm a person. I'm not a gun or a sword or a cannon. And didn't your mothers ever teach you about sharing for trees above? Look, you have TWO planets. TWO races, it really doesn't take a genius. Or maybe it does, I've never had my intelligence tested, but I'm pretty sure it's up there."

Once again, silence reigned as they all took in his small stature and red wings. The humans paused, as did the avians before throwing themselves at one another and brawling instead of warring.

"Oh for Pete's sake." Edward muttered, sounding remarkably like Al, and thoroughly fed up. He clapped, and sent a pulse through the earth, causing a spear to rise up just under his chin. "ENOUGH" he cried again, and once more heads turned.

"So it's come to this, has it?" He demanded, "You can't share, so neither of you gets it. I've had it with you, I'm the grandma who throws the stuffed toy out of the window of the moving car. If I have to fucking kill myself to get the message through, I fucking will!"

"That won't be nessecary, Gabriel." Said a voice.

Crossing the battlefield now was a broad shouldered man with an eyepatch over his right eye. He stood tall over most of the other people in the field, regal prosperity in the way he held himself. "You have made your point and now I believe we are at an impasse. Negotiations should begin if we are to go any further." He smiled gaily. "What are your terms?"

Edward was suddenly unsure of himself, and sought out a horror-stricken looking Roy for reassurance. After a dark look and a promise of swift retribution graced his face, Roy mouthed "President" at him and Edward looked at the man in front of him very carefully.

"Well," He said, weighing his words, "The way I see it, is you want two things. You want me and the planet Mars." The man nodded.

"This is correct."

"What about a compromise?" Edward said quietly, feeling Roy's dread as the man's carefully laid plans were all but shattered because of Ed's free will. He liked that. He'd been trying to do that from day one, and then he had to go and fall in love with the stupid ship and the stupid commander and everyone on board. He had to start to want to save them, didn't he.

* * *

"What about a compromise?" Roy choked as he stepped forward out of the masses of grounded avians and disabled humans. Edward had a spike at his throat and it was killing Roy to see it, both that Edward would be stupid enough to try such a thing, and that he thought it was absolutely necessary to take his own life if need be. Bradley merely looked grumpy in the way that only Bradley could, with that stupid simpering smile on his face. "How about you get me, and the Avians get Mars?" Ed was speaking in that cocky way that drove ice into Roy's gut. And the boy was aware of it, glancing over at Roy sympathetically before plundering on. "It's the best solution – the avians get a place in which they can live, and you get a weapon that can establish enough fear into them to keep them at bay."

"A planet for a person is hardly a fair trade." Bradley replied, and he had the guts to be unconcerned with the whole idea that if Edward were to leave, Roy's heart would shatter.

"It'll be a planet for a dead person in a minute." The rock-blade at Edward's throat shot up and Roy let out an involuntary yelp reaching forward just as the blade stopped millimeters from Ed's throat. "Just think, all that work was put into cultivating me, and I was the only survivor of the program. All of that wasted effort gone just because you didn't agree to a compromise."

Now Bradley looked worried, but Roy was terrified, sliding behind Edward and reaching out to touch him. Edward nimbly stepped out of the way, the stone blade following him. "Stop, Roy." He said. "And obey my commands as I give them."

Roy froze. Edward had learnt to pull rank at the worst possible time. "Ed," He whispered, and the boy turned quickly to give him a sad look before turning back.

"It's the best solution." He said, meaninglessly, because Roy knew it was, but that didn't mean it was tearing out his heart any more or less.

Bradley sighed and his mouth twisted ever so slightly. "Name your terms." The man said to the young prince, and the young prince did so.

"You can have me on the terms that the war ends in effect immediately, for starters."

"Your other terms?"

"The avians get Mars. And," Ed turned to Roy and flashed a shit-eating grin the likes of which Roy had only ever seen once before on the boy – the day he met him. "You" He said to Bradley, all cocky smiles and glee, "Must make sure that I'm not the first person in the world to make a liar out of one Roy Mustang."

There was a surprised muttering through avian and human alike, but Bradley merely smiled that enigmatic grin, and shook his head. "An unusual request." He said, turning to Edward, "But it does not matter. I agree to your terms, all of them, and in the following months negotiations will take place to establish others that you may have overlooked. You may order your troops to leave."

Edward did so with a dismissing wave of his hand, keeping the stone blade pressed against his throat. Roy moved past him, knowing that it was the best solution, knowing it was what Ed wanted, but hating it all the same. He was stopped by a hand on his sleeve, and turned to look briefly at Ed, who was tugging slightly. He could only think to say one thing. "I love you."

Edward nodded, and whispered lowly, "Two minutes or two years, Roy, You promised."

"I did." He said, as Edward lifted the weighting on the avian's wings, and they took off into the night.

He felt Edward watching him, but he didn't look back, there was no need.

_  
_

**End Part 3 / The End**

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* * *

A/n: SO. HOW MANY OF YOU HATE ME?_

I'm sorry, I know it's open ended and I know Ed went all sue-ish in that last bit, it was much better in my head, I swear. But yeah. This is how AWWA was ALWAYS going to end – even in the early days when I was just formulating the idea, this was the ending.

Anyway, can you please be kind and leave one last review for this little author? It's nearly midnight and I really should be sleeping given how early I have to wake up tomorrow, but WHO CARES. AWWA IS FINISHED AND I FEEL LIKE I'VE LOST A CHILD.-breaks down into very noisy tears)

At least I still have the Lief version to keep me going. (Oh, speaking of that, it's so far 170 pages long when I'm up to chapter ten of the re-write. Also – the emails didn't work last time around in the reviews – can you please re-post them in the form (And I mean this exactly) yourname (at)yourhost (dot) whatever (dot) etc. Alternatively, just email me and I'll put you in my address book for updates. )

It's the last time you get to leave a review, so please? -puppy eyes-

  



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